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<title>(it can’t be a mistake) if I just call it change by centurytuna</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28190877">(it can’t be a mistake) if I just call it change</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/centurytuna/pseuds/centurytuna'>centurytuna</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Start-Up (Korea TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Fix-It</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 22:08:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>29,885</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28190877</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/centurytuna/pseuds/centurytuna</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Seo Dal-mi once said that she never regretted a decision in her life.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Han Ji Pyeong/Seo Dal Mi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>108</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>261</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. you feel just like a tourist</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was almost midnight, but Dal-mi and Do-san were on their couch at home, hunched over their laptops. Their positions in the company meant that there was always work to be done, no matter the hour. Sifting through the pile of unread emails in her non-urgent folder, a particular subject catches her eye.</p><p> </p><p>“Huh,” she breathes out after reading the email.</p><p> </p><p>Do-san, ever so attuned to her little sounds and changes in expression, switches his focus from his code to her. “What is it?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m being invited to interview for this company.”</p><p> </p><p>“What’s their product?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s a management consulting firm, but I think it’s pretty new. It’s the first time I’m hearing about them.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, so it’s not a start-up then. What position?”</p><p> </p><p>“Senior Director.”</p><p> </p><p>“Not even a C-level. They should’ve read up on your profile and offered you a title that matches your experience.” He shakes his head and goes back to his laptop, brow furrowing as he tries to remember what part of the code he was working on.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, you’re right,” Dal-mi acquiesces. She shuts off her laptop and kisses him good night, knowing better than to ask him to come to bed during this critical time. The release update for their latest product is next week, and Do-san and the rest of the developers have been working non-stop to have everything ready by then.</p><p> </p><p>Dal-mi lies in bed, waiting for sleep that should be easy to come given her extended workday, but eludes her nevertheless. Do-san is right— the job is a far cry from the terrain that she’s used to, so why does she keep thinking about it? It’s not the first time other companies reached out to ask if she wants to join them, but this is the first time her interest was piqued. Accepting that she’s not going to get any rest until she satisfies her curiosity, she looks up the company: Heights Consulting was created five years ago by a female CEO in her late 50s, has one to two clients whose logos Dal-mi recognizes, most of the team is in their early 20s to late 30s, and their office is located in one of the older buildings in the Seoul business district.</p><p> </p><p>Apart from being a young firm, it’s all very... traditional, something that she never would have considered during her Sandbox days. Seven years later though, Dal-mi feels an inexplicable pull towards the idea. Chungmyung Company has been running smoothly for the last few years now, and while they still have goals they want to achieve, she can’t but feel that she wants a new challenge. Running another start-up seems like the closest move, but somehow, it doesn’t feel new enough. She’s already had a taste of success and what frightens her now isn’t failure, but stagnation. And while she’s not the type to take risks for the sake of taking risks, she isn’t the type either to turn down new opportunities without first seeing what’s on the table.</p><p> </p><p>She tells Do-san the following morning that she’s accepted the invitation and he asks what made her change her mind. There is an edge to his tone, but she chalks it up to a combination of surprise and exhaustion after pulling another all-nighter.</p><p> </p><p>“I just want to see what they’re like, that’s all.” He accepts her explanation with a sleepy embrace, and Dal-mi is relieved. It’s not the best time to discuss her restlessness, and she doesn’t want him to feel burdened over something that’s unlikely to pan out.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>“I think you’d fit right in with us, Ms. Seo.”</p><p> </p><p>Ms. Lee, the CEO, smiles warmly at her and Dal-mi can’t help but smile back. She reminds her of Director Yoon, with her calm energy and endless wisdom. Among her inspirations, she only knows a few personally, and, having heard about her career journey and how that eventually led to Heights Consulting, Ms. Lee’s story feels quite close to home.</p><p> </p><p>“I have one question for you.” Dal-mi hesitates, unsure if maybe the question is too personal and might even be inappropriate given that they’ve only known each other for an hour. However, she’s been struggling with it since the night she received the invitation, and perhaps no other woman would be able to answer better than the one in front of her.</p><p> </p><p>“How did your husband react when you told him you wanted to build your own company?” She bites her lip, almost positive that she’s crossed the line.</p><p> </p><p>To her surprise, Ms. Lee laughs. “He said it took me long enough. Mind you, I was 52 when I told him about it, and we’ve been working together for almost 25 years at that point.”</p><p> </p><p><em>I wish it will be that easy for me too</em>, Dal-mi thinks then stops herself. When did she start thinking that she’ll take this job? She only came to learn about what they were offering, maybe make some contacts while she’s at it, but to actually leave Chungmyung Company?</p><p> </p><p>“You work with your husband, too, don’t you? Is that why you asked?” Ms. Lee breaks her spiraling thoughts. Dal-mi nods.</p><p> </p><p>“When I confessed that I’ve already been thinking about it for a few years, he said I should have told him earlier, and he would have pushed me out the door to do it. In retrospect, it was silly, worrying and wasting all that time. He was understanding and supportive, just like he always has been.”</p><p> </p><p>Dal-mi remembers all the times Do-san stood by her side: believing in her when she had nothing to her name, choosing her as their CEO over someone with more experience and knowledge, pushing her to follow her dreams despite the odds being stacked against her. He was her biggest cheerleader in every path her journey has taken, and she knows this wouldn’t be any different.</p><p> </p><p>They end lunch with Dal-mi’s promise to call once she’s come to a decision. She walks back to the office, using that time to process her thoughts and feelings. Her heart is leaning towards one direction but her head is telling her all things that could go wrong if she changes the status quo, a messy back-and-forth that causes her to miss their office block. There will be time later to wrestle with her thoughts, she tells herself as she rushes to the office, the number of unread emails on her phone increasing, pulling her back to reality.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>They release their update without a hitch and, to let everyone rest, Dal-mi instructs everyone to take a day off, pulling her husband away from his computer and taking him home. After feeding him and letting him sleep, she opens her laptop to get some work done but miraculously, there’s nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow, which is troubling for Dal-mi. Now that she can’t use work as a distraction from her racing thoughts, she has no choice but to face them.</p><p> </p><p>There is no real risk whatever she chooses. She can stay with Chungmyung Company, rekindle her enthusiasm for what they do at some point, maybe get another offer from another company in the future. She can move to Heights Consulting, see if she likes it, and go elsewhere if she doesn’t. The one thing that seems inevitable in both scenarios is her leaving Chungmyung Company, and it’s simply a matter of when. But what is it about Chungmyung Company that makes her want to leave? She racks her brain for a logical, palatable answer, trying to drown out a small voice inside her saying things that she doesn’t want to hear.</p><p> </p><p>That’s how Do-san finds her at three in the morning, having woken up from his very long nap. “Dal-mi? Why are you awake?”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, it’s nothing, I was just thinking.” She moves off the couch and towards the kitchen. “Are you hungry? I can make you some ramyeon.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, I’m fine.” He sits at the dining table, where she meets him. He studies her intently, and she makes silly faces to get him to laugh, which fails. “There’s something bothering you.”</p><p> </p><p>Her face goes blank, her automatic response when she doesn’t want to let her thoughts or feelings show. Three in the morning is hardly the time to talk about this, not when she hasn’t thought it through yet, not when it’s a huge conversation that she needs to be prepared for.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh! I forgot to ask you about the interview last week. How did it go?”</p><p> </p><p>Damn it, why does he know her so well? “I think it was just kind of a formality. The job is mine if I want it, but I told them to give me a week to think about it.”</p><p> </p><p>He simply nods, and Dal-mi feels a strange sense of hope rising inside her. Maybe Ms. Lee was right, there is nothing to worry about. “What do you think?” she asks him.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s only polite, I guess? You were talking about it over lunch, it would have been awkward to refuse her offer in front of her face.”</p><p> </p><p>Dal-mi’s heart sinks. Of course, he would think that. She hasn’t given him any reason to think that she’s unhappy being in Chungmyung Company. And she is happy: how many people get to go to work with the love of their lives everyday, achieve great things together, and build both a life and a business with each other? Yet, despite all these, within her is still a desire to do something else, a desire that fails to make sense when subjected to logic, a desire that she herself cannot fully comprehend.</p><p> </p><p>But maybe Do-san can. He’s always held the answers to her heart, knows her better than she knows herself. She thinks of Ms. Lee and all those years gone simply because she misjudged her husband. No, that will not be her story. She needs to start having more faith in her husband and their relationship.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m actually thinking of accepting.”</p><p> </p><p>One could hear a pin drop in the silence that ensues. Do-san blinks at her, and Dal-mi resists the urge to look away or to fill the silence, willing him to understand but letting him process the news as well.</p><p> </p><p>“Does that— I mean... why? I don’t understand.” He draws closer to her, scrutinizing her face for any sign that she might be joking, or that he still has a shot at convincing her to change her mind. It’s too close for comfort, though, and Dal-mi looks down, focusing on the tablecloth, fingers running through the hem in an attempt to calm her beating heart.</p><p> </p><p>“I want to try something new, Do-san. I’ve been in Chungmyung Company for the last four years and, as much as I love the team and what we do, there are other things that I want to explore,” she says meekly, knowing full well how lame she sounds. It’s comical to think that it’s almost a replica of a speech she would make to her old bosses, but it stops being funny when she realizes that she actually does owe Do-san this speech, because they’re co-workers. In their day-to-day, there is no need to delineate Do-san her husband from Do-san her CTO, because they have a shared purpose, and the interest of one is in line with the other. But that doesn’t hold true in this case.</p><p> </p><p>“So, you’re bored, is that it? Fine, I’ll leave Chungmyung Company too and we can create another start-up. We might have to stay a bit longer until we can find replacements but we’ll manage,” he says with complete conviction. However, instead of comfort, what Dal-mi feels is confusion.</p><p> </p><p>Why was it so easy for him to make up his mind? It took her weeks of agonizing over the mere idea of leaving before coming close to a decision, and yet here Do-san is, dropping everything to join her within five minutes of finding out. Has he felt the same way all this time and she just never knew, her decision being the final straw for him?</p><p> </p><p>“What? Why would you do that?”</p><p> </p><p>“Because... maybe you’re right. Maybe we’ve outgrown Chungmyung Company and it’s time for a new adventure, don’t you think?” He grins at her, eyes carrying the promise of sailing off without a map, this time with her at the helm and him in tow. But while the old Dal-mi would have giddily accepted this without question and started brainstorming business ideas, the adventure she has in mind is of a different kind, one she doesn’t think he can follow along.</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t know you felt that way, too. But, Dosan, I don’t—” She pauses, struggling to find the right words to reject his proposal. “It’s not about leaving Chungmyung Company and being bored with it. I really want to take this job.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why?”</p><p> </p><p>And so, she tells him: about wanting to have a mentor like Ms. Lee who’s had the career she wants for herself, about wanting to use her experience to help other businesses solve their problems, about wanting to have peers she can learn from and bounce ideas with. She lists down all the reasons except for the one that ultimately cements her decision — she wants to see what she can do by herself, without him or In-jae or even Ji-pyeong’s support, so she can fully own and claim her success.</p><p> </p><p>She knows her value — how it was her idea that led to the creation of the company, how much work and effort she put in to get it up and running. However, she can’t help but feel that she got lucky in many ways. Do-san always came to her rescue because of his feelings for her, In-jae helped her get back on her feet because they were still sisters even if their actual relationship was icy, and Ji-pyeong offered her advice because of his connection with Halmeoni. She wouldn’t be where she is now without them, and she will be eternally grateful for that. But in the back of her head, she’s always had doubts about how much of her success was actually hers and how much of it was from others. It’s about time that she put those doubts to rest.</p><p> </p><p>Do-san listens but as Dal-mi goes on, she sees his expression morph from openness to confusion to disbelief. She’s not getting through to him and her desperation to make him understand causes her to ramble, throwing whatever explanation at him to see what sticks (except for that one thing she keeps close to her chest), until she runs out of things to say and has to await his verdict.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.” Do-san runs a hand over his face. He stands up, a signal that this conversation is over, at least for him.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s it?” Dal-mi feels a quiet fury rising within her at his dismissiveness. If he couldn’t understand, she expected some probing, at least, as to why she wanted those things, why she has to go this route to get them. She is willing to put in the work to make him understand, but it seems he’s determined not to, and that breaks her heart and makes her angry at the same time.</p><p> </p><p>“I can’t stop you from doing what you want, Dal-mi. Of course, I’m not happy about it and I need time to come to terms with it.” He starts walking back towards their bedroom.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you saying that as Chungmyung Company’s CTO, or as my husband?”</p><p> </p><p>That makes him stop in his tracks. It came out of her unexpectedly, a question she never meant to ask. Now that it’s out there, she needs to know his answer.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know, both? Does it matter?” he responds, his voice weary. He shuts the door to their bedroom behind him.</p><p> </p><p><em>Yes, it matters</em>, Dal-mi thinks. If anyone asked her when she thought the beginning of the end was for them, this was it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Undoing the math</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Do-san [2:08 AM]: What time are you coming home?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Dal-mi [2:10 AM]: I don’t know :( You should sleep, don’t wait up.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>When Do-san doesn’t respond immediately, Dal-mi puts her phone away and returns to her deck. There’s something about it that doesn’t quite flow, and with less than twelve hours until their presentation to the client, she needs her sleep-deprived brain to refocus and figure out what’s wrong.</p><p> </p><p>Ms. Lee did warn her about the hours when Dal-mi accepted the job, saying that the inherent variety in the nature of their work makes it exciting, but also demanding. There would be unreasonable clients to deal with and very tight deadlines to meet regardless. Dal-mi took it in stride, thinking that her start-up background prepared her for this. And while it has in many ways, what Dal-mi mostly struggles with is the newness of everything. The pressure isn’t an issue, the stakes were even higher when she was starting in Sandbox, but the success of Chungmyung Company the past few years has made her complacent. While she is quick to pick up and offer her input when needed, there is still a lot that she doesn’t know.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you still okay?” Dal-mi startles, not expecting the voice beside her. It’s Seol, one of the managers in her team, also pulling an all-nighter for a different project. There’s still a few of them in the office, some typing furiously on their laptops and the others taking a break in the conference room.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” Dal-mi smiles weakly, “I’m just working on this deck for tomorrow— no, later’s presentation.”</p><p> </p><p>To her surprise, Seol sits on a chair and pulls up beside Dal-mi’s desk. “Do you need any help?”</p><p> </p><p>This was one of the things that amazed Dal-mi when she joined the team, and a major reason she’s convinced she made the right choice to join them despite the long hours: Everyone is willing to help everyone, even if they already have a lot on their plate.</p><p> </p><p>“Aren’t you still working on something?”</p><p> </p><p>Seol groans. “I’ve been staring at spreadsheets all day, I could use a break.”</p><p> </p><p>Dal-mi laughs. If Seol had offered a few months ago, Dal-mi would have refused, not wanting to be a burden to anyone. Now though, she recognizes that she needs someone to talk to, even if it’s just to get her out of her head.</p><p> </p><p>“Fine. Do you want to look at my deck and tell me if there’s something wrong with it?” She turns her laptop towards Seol and she reads through each slide, making appreciative noises as she follows along.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, what part did you get stuck at?” Seol asks once she’s finished, leaning back on her chair.</p><p> </p><p>“This one.” Dal-mi goes to the slide in question. “It’s basically why our solution is the right one, but we have this caveat about which issues it won’t address, and I feel that those are major things. I can’t convince myself of what I’m saying, and I can’t get past that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Didn’t you talk about that in one of the earlier slides, about the case studies?”</p><p> </p><p>“I did?” Dal-mi asks, scrolling up to the slide that Seol is talking about. True enough, she did, albeit in a different context.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s too far up, though, that might be why you’re struggling.”</p><p> </p><p>Now that the problem has been unlocked, Dal-mi spends the next half-hour re-arranging and editing her presentation. When she does a final run-through and is satisfied, she lets out a cheer, one that she thought was quiet but was loud enough for her teammates to hear. They all share a laugh, a light moment to relieve the exhaustion that they all must be feeling at this point. She bids everyone goodbye, walking towards Seol who is also packing up, and offering her a ride to show her gratitude.</p><p> </p><p>The 20-minute ride to Seol’s place goes by fast, the two of them laughing at Seol’s stories and her terrible luck with men. “I always tell Ms. Lee that I wouldn’t stay late in the office if I had someone to come home to. And she tells me that I can’t meet a decent man if I always leave the office after midnight. My only hope would be someone in the office at this rate.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll take note of that the next time we hire someone,” Dal-mi quips.</p><p> </p><p>“Come to think of it, you met your husband through work, right? Gosh, you’re so lucky.” Seol shakes her head before getting out once they reach her apartment complex.</p><p> </p><p>Seol’s words stay with Dal-mi on her way home. It gives rise to thoughts she doesn’t like having given their current situation, afraid of what they might imply. She never told anyone in the office how she and Do-san really met, keeping the story simple when it was anything but. Sure, luck did play a part in the beginning of their story; however, she thinks it’s their choices that led them to where they are: him choosing her as his dream, her choosing him despite not being the boy from the letters. But while she never doubted her choice in the past, she wonders why it feels heavier now, to keep making that choice every day.</p><p> </p><p>Despite his initial reaction, Do-san eventually came around, apologizing tearfully to Dal-mi after a week of tense silence. He never explained why he reacted the way he did, but Dal-mi thinks she understands: working together was an integral part of their relationship dynamic, and Do-san, despite his entire career being hinged on innovation, dislikes change. Then and there, she promised herself that she would do her best to let things change as little as possible, if that’s what it took for them to be okay.</p><p> </p><p>It was easy to keep her promise at first. She would ask him questions about what they were up to in Chungmyung Company, still well-versed in their day-to-day. On some days, she would drop by their office to have lunch, or bring some food if they were working late. However, as the demands in her new job increased, Dal-mi found less and less time to spend with Do-san, her work days extending well past midnight on a regular basis, and some of her work even bleeding through the weekends. He absolutely hated it—what started out as mild interest whenever she would regale him with stories about her work turned into distaste or dismissiveness whenever the subject arose. Dal-mi, on the other hand, loved what she did— the new job kept her on her toes, and she was working with some of the best and kindest people she’s ever met. Most importantly, for every client presentation she did, for every report that she submitted, for every analyst that she was able to guide, a voice inside her grew louder and louder, saying, “Yes, I did that.”</p><p> </p><p>Once she arrives home, she gets ready for bed as quietly as she can, to avoid waking up Do-san. She falls asleep immediately beside him, fatigue catching up with her.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>When her alarm blares three hours later, she wakes up to an empty bed, which isn’t new, but the smell of coffee is. Eyes bleary and hair messy, Dal-mi finds Do-san in the kitchen, unsure if the lack of sleep is making her imagination play tricks on her.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re still here?” He sets his alarm two hours earlier than hers, and is often gone before she wakes up.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” he says with a small smile. “I slept through my alarm.”</p><p> </p><p>“You worked late, too?” She presses a kiss to his cheek on her way to get coffee and pretends that she doesn’t notice how he stiffens.</p><p> </p><p>A pause. “Not really.”</p><p> </p><p>It doesn’t take her long to realize that it was because he was waiting up for her, even if she told him not to. The small jab annoys her but, realizing that this is the first time in the last few days that they’ve been awake in the same space as each other, she reins in her emotions and tries to take the high road instead.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry. I needed to finish everything last night for my presentation today. It’s a big client, and we’re pitching for the first time—“</p><p> </p><p>“You know this isn’t healthy, right, Dal-mi?” He interrupts her, and Dal-mi is <em>this</em> close to exploding. In another time, with a more rested version of her, she would take it for what it is: Do-san, her husband, showing concern over her unhealthy lifestyle. But they’ve had this discussion one too many times, and she’s not in the right frame of mind to make this a productive conversation.</p><p> </p><p>“Let’s not do this today.” She stands up and ditches her half-empty mug in the sink, losing all appetite. She had wanted to have a peaceful breakfast with her husband this morning when she saw him in the kitchen, even if it meant being late for a few minutes at work.</p><p> </p><p>“Then when? After this presentation? I’m sure you have another project lined up and I’ll barely see you again,” he says, sarcasm laced in his voice.</p><p> </p><p>She doesn’t dignify him with a response, and she jumps into the shower to get ready for work. When she steps out of the bathroom, he’s already gone.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>They invite her to a celebratory dinner for the end of the pitch, but Dal-mi declines, opting to eat with her husband instead. She orders takeaway from his favorite restaurant, goes home early to set everything up before he arrives. When he gets home, he recognizes it as an apology of sorts, gives her a tight-lipped smile, but digs in nonetheless. His initial reaction disappoints her, but she tries not to let it show.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry,” she offers.</p><p> </p><p>“I know.”</p><p> </p><p>They eat in silence, Dal-mi wondering what topic to bring up. Her day is a non-option, and she dreads asking him how his day went, if the look on his face when he got home is any indication. She remembers how silence used to be comfortable between them, both of them doing their own thing while sharing the same space, glancing at each other every now and then, a smile or a touch whenever their eyes met. Now, it’s laden with all the things unsaid between them, their inability to relate to each other without sharing the same experience showing.</p><p> </p><p>It permeates their weekend, despite Dal-mi’s best efforts. She tries to engage him in light and neutral topics, but these conversations quickly fizzle out. She hangs around him so that they can do the things they used to like doing together, but whatever connection she used to feel with him during these activities aren’t there anymore. She had wanted to fix this without talking about the elephant in the room, but it doesn’t seem possible.</p><p> </p><p>“Do-san, we should talk,” she tells him as they lay in bed. He turns to her, and for the first time since their argument, she can see what he’s feeling plain as day: sadness, and fear.</p><p> </p><p>“What do you want to talk about?”</p><p> </p><p>“I—what’s wrong with us? How did we end up like this?” Her voice breaks.</p><p> </p><p>He says nothing, but she already knows what he’s thinking.</p><p> </p><p>“Is my job really that big of an issue? Do you hate it that much?”</p><p> </p><p>“I hate what it’s doing to you, Dal-mi. ”</p><p> </p><p>But does he really know what it’s doing to her? All he can see are the late nights and the burnout, but Dal-mi has long accepted these as tradeoffs for the path she chose to better herself. He doesn’t know this, and that’s on her for not telling him, for assuming the worst of him if she lays down her biggest insecurity.</p><p> </p><p>She finally confesses, tells him the real reason she took the job and what she wants to get out of it. It’s been a long time since she laid her heart bare to him, and with how cathartic she feels afterwards, she wonders what took her so long to do it.</p><p> </p><p>“You know it’s not true, right? You’re the best woman I’ve ever known. I wouldn’t have done any of the things I achieved without you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe, but I don’t believe it.” She appreciates his words but, ultimately, they’re meaningless. “I’ll get there, but it’s going to take me a while. So until then, it’s going to be a lot more of this.”</p><p> </p><p>This, meaning them hardly seeing each other because of her demanding job. This, meaning her basically being an absent wife and him just having to accept that. This, meaning putting their future plans on pause so she can focus on herself first. She hadn’t realized it until now but what she’s really asking of him isn’t understanding anymore, but patience and faith, that he’ll still be there for her at the end of it all.</p><p> </p><p>He wraps her up in his arms and rubs her back, muttering “Okay, okay”. She falls asleep peacefully, with hope that things will finally start getting better.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>They don’t get better.</p><p> </p><p>While their conversation offered a brief reprieve from the tension in their relationship, they soon found themselves back to their old habit of disappointing then resenting each other. Do-san, now that he knew why Dal-mi was determined to stick it out, was adamant on showing her that there are other ways to achieve her goal: sending her job openings, dropping her name to some of his contacts, and pitching ideas for businesses that they can start together. She started out by refusing politely, understanding that he has good intentions, but it quickly got on her nerves, and she has resorted to flat-out ignoring them. He clearly doesn’t respect her choice, even after she put all her cards on the table.</p><p> </p><p>On top of that, they still aren’t able to spend a lot of time together, which is Do-san’s biggest issue. Nothing in Dal-mi’s work situation has really changed. As a compromise, she tried to continue working at home instead of in the office late at night, just so she and Do-san could at least eat dinner together. That failed, as Dal-mi realized that she often needed the advice and input of her teammates, and she was distracted over dinner by the tasks that she still needed to complete. Weekends, if not spent for catching up on work, was for catching up on sleep.</p><p> </p><p>Their marriage was falling apart. Dal-mi knew what Do-san wanted her to do to fix it, but she couldn’t do it. She didn’t really think it would fix them, as she knew that she would only resent him for pushing her to quit a job that she loves. But if she couldn’t give him that, she could give him the next thing that he wanted from her: time.</p><p> </p><p>They both take a week off and leave for Jeju, hoping that forced proximity with no distractions will allow them to reconnect. Dal-mi had been worried about her workload, but Ms. Lee and her teammates were all supportive, covering for her so she can take a well-deserved vacation. They both leave their laptops at home, not wanting their trip to resemble their normal lives, knowing full well what was at stake here.</p><p> </p><p>And maybe it’s the pressure, or maybe it’s them not realizing how deep the fractures in their relationship already were, but rekindling their romance is proving harder than they thought, even in this paradise. Every conversation feels stilted, every touch feels hesitant, and every smile feels forced. Dal-mi feels desperation gnaw at her for every day that passes without resolution, and yet, there’s also a part of her that just wants this trip to end so they can resume their regular lives, having accepted that there’s no going back to how they were.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m going for a walk,” Do-san informs her one night. She simply nods, but she starts worrying when he hasn’t come back after two hours. She calls his number but his phone starts ringing on the countertop. Heart pounding in her chest, she rushes out the door, only to find Do-san situated in the bench outside their villa, staring at the sea.</p><p> </p><p>Calming herself down, Dal-mi calls out to him as she approaches. “When did you get back? Why didn’t you go inside?”</p><p> </p><p>He looks at her with an indecipherable expression as she sits beside him. “I just wanted to breathe. I don’t think I’ve taken a breath since we got on this trip. Have you?”</p><p> </p><p>She knows what he means, and she knows how he’s feeling. She shakes her head.</p><p> </p><p>“I keep thinking of what I can do to make you happy, Dal-mi, because you’re clearly not. I used to think I knew, but none of those seem to work now. I feel like you’ve become this completely different person right under my nose, and I didn’t realize it until it was too late,” he says without looking at her.</p><p> </p><p>All Dal-mi can hear is that it’s all her fault. And while she knows that her choices were what triggered the deterioration of their relationship, she also knows that they shouldn’t have been. “Of course I’ve changed, Do-san. It’s been years. The question is, why haven’t you?”</p><p> </p><p>This stuns him into silence, and her first instinct is to take it back, to acknowledge that she shouldn’t have changed so much, but she doesn’t. She remembers the foolish promise she made back then, about how things won’t change because she won’t let them, as if they could avoid it. But she had welcomed the change, hoped that he would change alongside her. Instead, he clung to the vestiges of the person she used to be, failing to see the person in front of him, desperately trying to merge those two together. She knows all too well what it’s like to hold on to someone from the past.</p><p> </p><p>“Is that really what you think of me?”</p><p> </p><p>The sound of his voice breaking makes her cover her face in her hands as her own tears fall. “What is so wrong with me wanting to have something for myself? Sandbox, Samsan Tech, Chungmyung Company, those were all ours. For once, I just wanted something that I can call my own—“</p><p> </p><p>“Because it’s not worth it!” he yells, interrupting her tirade.</p><p> </p><p>“What?” Her voice is small, completely confused as to where this is coming from.</p><p> </p><p>“You are my map, Dal-mi, my dream. Those three years in Silicon Valley, I did exactly what you’re doing now, even if you made that decision for me. I made a name for myself, I tried having a different dream, because that was what I was supposed to do. But in the end, my success wasn’t worth it without you, and I had to learn that the hard way. Now, here you are, sacrificing my dream— our dream— and for what?”</p><p> </p><p>His words feel like a slap to her face. Of course he can say that; he was a genius as a kid and a sought-after developer as an adult, he’s proven himself to the world time and time again. Dal-mi, on the other hand, still wants to prove something, if not to the world, then to herself. Does it make her a horrible wife if her dream differs from his? Is her dream so small compared to his just because he has lived through it? “You make it sound like I can’t have my own dreams just because we’re married.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s not what I’m saying. But when it’s threatening our marriage, I don’t see why it’s still a choice.”</p><p> </p><p>She can’t believe her ears. “Are you really asking me to choose? Is that really what this has come down to?”</p><p> </p><p>“I shouldn’t have to ask, Dal-mi. That’s my point.”</p><p> </p><p>They stay quiet for a long time, Dal-mi mulling the choices in her head. The answer is clear to her, even if it breaks her heart. “If I give it up, you know that I’ll probably resent you for a long time.”</p><p> </p><p>He looks at his hands, his wedding band glittering in the darkness. “I just don’t want to lose you.”</p><p> </p><p>Too late, she thinks, gaze fixed on the ring on her finger.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>It takes Dal-mi weeks to call a lawyer after they get back from Jeju. Maybe because Do-san still tries, and every time he does, Dal-mi clings to a tiny piece of hope that perhaps all is not lost. But every time she remembers that horrible fight, she realizes that nothing has changed. They’re wildly different people — whether they always have been or it’s just how they turned out is a question she’s tired of asking. It’s irrelevant, now that she’s made up her mind.</p><p> </p><p>When she tells him that she wants a divorce, he breaks down in tears.</p><p> </p><p>“Can’t you just forget about what I said that night? Can you just remember what you used to like about me?”</p><p> </p><p>She stays silent, tears falling down her cheeks. She remembers a similar question, all those years ago. She couldn’t give him a coherent answer back then, and she took it to mean that she liked him for himself, and that was more meaningful than any list of reasons she could come up with. But now, when all is said and done, perhaps she simply never knew him well enough to know what she liked about him.</p><p> </p><p>She takes off her ring, places it on the table, and walks away from Do-san.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much for all your comments! Closing out the Do-san part of this story. I always felt like had Dal-mi been more independent and less lovesick in the drama, she wouldn’t have ended up with Do-san (or at least, what Do-san turned out to be). And so they had to regress her character growth so she can be a match for Do-san in the end, which I hated. I agree with KSH saying that Dal-mi and Do-san deserve each other HAHAHA</p><p>Anyway, next chapter will be Jipyeong-centric so please look forward to it!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Why I was the one worth leaving</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Han Ji-pyeong didn’t think he needed friends. These were shallow relationships, bonding over surface-level similarities, people who were only there for the good times but were nowhere to be found during the bad. As someone who’s had to manage alone his whole life, someone who had little time for hobbies or interests because he had to survive, what he needed were people who would accept him despite his shortcomings and who would remain by his side no matter what. What he needed was a family. </p><p>It took moving to a different country for him to realize that friends could be family, too.</p><p>After Halmeoni died, Ji-pyeong decided to transfer to SH Ventures’ counterpart in the U.S.. It was something he had planned on doing years ago, but eventually opted not to, wanting to spend as much time as he could with Halmeoni to make up for all the years he could have had with her if he found her sooner. More than that, leaving then meant running away from something: whether it was from his first heartbreak, or from the shame of losing, or from the consequences of being wrong. But Halmeoni’s last wish was for him to find his happiness and, while he didn’t know what that looked like, he knew it wasn’t in the life he’d been living.</p><p>Packing everything up to leave for another country was easy, unsurprising for someone with very few attachments. The team threw him a small going-away dinner but, while he appreciated the gesture, it felt stifled and forced, with Halmeoni’s death still fresh on everyone’s minds, and his relationship with the team kept purely professional since he became one of their investors. It was his default, true, but it was also the most effective way to cope with seeing the woman he loved by someone else’s side on a regular basis. He had endured it, as he considered running away an act of cowardice. But it had taken a lot of honesty on his part to finally admit that he was unhappy, and running away from unhappiness, cutting off the things and people that made him miserable, was far more courageous than spending the rest of his life trying to be a martyr.</p><p>Chicago welcomed him with a freezing winter that broke records. Ji-pyeong figured it was only apt— a cold, bitter season in a foreign land for a lonely soul like his. His first night in his new apartment overlooking the river, he finally allowed himself to feel: the grief over losing the only family he’s ever known, the anger at the unfairness of the universe, the emptiness of all his success and achievements, the hopelessness of being doomed to a life of loneliness. He cried his eyes out that night, heart-wrenching sobs spilling helplessly from his lips. Once again, he felt lost, and he didn’t think he’d be lucky enough to meet another old lady who would open her door for him.</p><p>He planned to bury himself in work to pass the time, the one thing he knew how to do and did well. What he didn’t count on, however, was a persistent co-worker who would turn his life around. Ji-pyeong met Erik, a fellow Korean, when he had to consult on one of Erik’s projects and Erik offered to buy him a meal to say thanks. Ji-pyeong refused, having never been the type to socialize with his co-workers, but Erik kept on insisting until Ji-pyeong finally agreed. It turned out they had some things in common: Erik grew up in Seoul before his family migrated to the U.S. once he graduated from college, he struggled to work his way up as he didn’t come from an American university, and he used to have a sharp tongue until he mellowed out with age. They became fast friends after that dinner, and Erik eventually introduced him to the rest of his circle who he met through various interests and incidents, people who welcomed Ji-pyeong into the fold as if they’ve known him for years. Despite his initial reluctance to talk about his past, it all came tumbling out one night and, at the end of it, when he expected awkwardness and pity, he received acceptance and admiration. For the first time in a long while, Ji-pyeong felt seen and heard.</p><p>The years passed with Ji-pyeong developing a new norm: being invited to gatherings and birthdays, spending holidays with his friends’ families, meeting up after work for dinner and drinks a couple of times a month, hanging out together during weekends. Even if he still came home to an empty apartment, he stopped feeling alone, knowing that there were people out there who liked him and cared for him exactly the way he was. He finally found a family, even if it wasn’t in the form that he thought it would be.</p><p>And it’s precisely because they’re his family that they should be the first ones to hear the news. Over dinner at Ji-pyeong’s apartment, there’s an undercurrent of nervous tension as they eat, despite the hearty laughter and endless banter. It was rare for Ji-pyeong to invite them to dinner, much less to his apartment, but he did owe them at least one meal and he wanted everyone to be comfortable.</p><p>As the conversation dwindles and dinner draws to a close, Ji-pyeong clears his throat, calling everyone’s attention. His heart is pounding in his chest and his mouth feels dry, unsure about how they’ll react. He exchanges a look with Erik, who offers a reassuring nod, before he speaks.</p><p>“I’m moving back to Korea in a month.”</p><p>*</p><p>“That should be the last of it,” Ji-pyeong announces as he closes the final box with packing tape.</p><p>“Alright, come here and eat then.”</p><p>With a tired smile, he goes over to what used to be his living room, his favorite people gathered around a bunch of takeout boxes carrying all the dishes he liked from their favorite restaurants, reminiscing the good times and teasing Ji-pyeong. He couldn’t imagine a more perfect way to spend his last night in Chicago.</p><p>They try their best to save the tears for tomorrow, when they take him to the airport. After bidding them goodbye and cleaning up, he puts on his running shoes and heads out the door. Despite not being into running outdoors when he was in Seoul, it was a hobby he picked up in his first few months in Chicago, when the weather settled into a nice, comfortable chill. At first, it was his way of seeing the sights of the city but it eventually became another way to cope with the loneliness— being around people, exchanging a friendly nod or smile with a stranger. And finally, it helped him clear his thoughts; when he had to make a big decision, when he was anxious about his future, running got rid of all the unnecessary details and allowed him to focus on what truly mattered. When all he could feel were the pain in his legs, the pounding of his heart, and the shortness of his breath, the path forward became clear and there was no need to look back.</p><p>Tonight, Ji-pyeong runs to say goodbye to the city that gave him so much. He remembers coming here broken and alone, believing that the scraps of affection he received back in Seoul were enough, that that was the only time he will get to experience love and he will have to settle for the rest of his life without it. But the last two and a half years proved all of that wrong, with some of the best people he’s ever met coming into his life and saving him. And through all that, he stumbled into one of the most important realizations he’s had, one that he had forgotten in his last few years in Seoul: there is no need to make himself smaller to fit in with the wrong people. Growing up, he had been unapologetically himself, and his attitude and drive led him to great heights, albeit at the expense of forming meaningful connections. And while he recognizes the importance of relationships in his life, he now believes that they will come at the right time with the right people, just like how Halmeoni did, just like how Erik and his friends did.</p><p>He slows down to a walk on the way back to his apartment, relishing the breeze from the river and the faint smell of chocolates in the air. The receptionist greets him warmly as he enters, and the lady in the elevator already knows his floor before he tells her. He will miss everything about this place, even though he knows he made the right call. </p><p>As he steps out of the elevator, a familiar figure is situated outside his door.</p><p>“Liv?”</p><p>She turns around at the sound of her name, a worn keychain dangling on her finger.</p><p>“Hi, Ji-pyeong,” she says with a small smile. “Can we talk?”</p><p>*</p><p>He met Liv at Erik’s birthday party, and she was briefly introduced as his cousin before being called over by her friends. He found her pretty but, while he spent most of the night trying to catch her eye, they didn’t really get a chance to talk until they were on their way home, when they realized they were both headed in the same direction. He had walked up to her then, dimples on full display, the small amount of alcohol he consumed making him bolder than usual, and asked if she wanted to take the scenic route instead. She agreed with a light laugh, eyes shining with mirth, and they spent hours walking along the river, getting to know each other and exchanging stories. The night ended with Ji-pyeong finally walking her to her apartment, and asking if he can take her out on a date.</p><p>It wasn’t love at first sight, at least not for Ji-pyeong. Sure, there was an attraction when they met and he admired her strong sense of self, but what really drew him to Liv was the ease of their connection. Despite the difference in their backgrounds, he had no trouble opening up to her— about his past, his worries, his insecurities. She didn’t break down his walls; instead, he let his guard down for her, trusting that letting her in won’t hurt him. He loved spending time with her, how they never seem to run out of things to talk about, how comfortable they were with each other even in silence. Ji-pyeong never had this kind of relationship before, and it wasn’t long before he started wondering if he was falling in love.</p><p>Though it was a long time ago, he couldn’t help but compare his feelings to how he felt for Dal-mi; after all, it was his only experience with love before this. Back then, it was difficult to love Dal-mi— the fear of his true identity being found out, the care and affection he gave without being noticed, the pain of having to stand and watch while she loved somebody else. Even admitting to himself that he liked her was hard, given how complex and fraught with lies their situation was. He believed that he loved Dal-mi because it was hard, so how come falling in love with Liv was this easy?</p><p>He found the answer one night when she told him that she loved him, eyes boring into his, the words falling effortlessly from her lips. Love doesn’t have to be hard to be real, and he echoed her confession as he cradled her face with his hands and crashed his lips onto hers.</p><p>News of their relationship spread fast and Ji-pyeong soon found himself becoming part of their family, not just as Erik’s best friend, but as Liv’s boyfriend. Of course, given their ages, it was only a matter of time before everyone prodded them on their plans for the future. While they laughed it off at first, they knew they had to talk about it at some point, and only when they talked about the specifics did they realize that the details didn’t quite line up.</p><p>As much as Ji-pyeong grew to love the life he had in Chicago, he still thought of Korea as home. It was where he wanted to settle down and raise a family, wanting to give his future children the life he didn’t have. Liv, on the other hand, had her family, her business— her entire life— in Chicago, and she had no interest in uprooting her whole life to move to another country. The situation was untenable; neither of them were willing to budge, and they both loved the other too much to make them give up on the future they wanted for themselves.</p><p>In the end, it was Ji-pyeong who made the decision for the both of them. He told her that he planned to apply for another transfer, back to Korea this time. Their talk about the future made him realize that staying in the U.S. meant delaying his plans for himself, and while he certainly wouldn’t marry the first woman who would agree to it in Korea, he did want to start working towards that future. She had understood and, through her tears, even apologized for not being able to be that woman for him, as much as she wanted to be. He looked at her incredulously before wrapping her up in his arms and whispering his apologies as well. He should be the one who’s sorry, for wasting her time and for being unwilling to compromise when he has less to lose.</p><p>He went back to his apartment that night and sat in the dark, staring blankly outside the window. Will he regret this in the future? Did he just make his biggest mistake and let go of the best possible person for him?</p><p>His doorbell rang, breaking him from his reverie. It was Erik, carrying several cans of beer from the convenience store below. He explained that Liv called him to tell him what happened and asked if he could check on Ji-pyeong. </p><p>In that moment, Ji-pyeong felt like the worst person on the planet. He understood the gesture for what it was; despite the fact that he broke her heart, she still cared about him. Erik, despite being her family, was still his best friend and she knew that Ji-pyeong needed him now more than ever. She had no hard feelings towards him over their break-up, and all she wanted was for him to be happy.</p><p>He didn’t deserve her, and he was right to let her go.</p><p>*</p><p>For the first time, the silence between them is awkward. Ji-pyeong, sweaty and nervous, has no idea what to do or what to say around Liv. He invites her inside his apartment, which turns out to be a mistake. Everything has been packed up, which means she has nowhere to sit except on the boxes they packed earlier.</p><p>“I’m sorry, it’s a mess—”</p><p>“You really weren’t going to tell me you were leaving?” He still knows her well enough to hear the slight hurt in her voice.</p><p>“I was going to send you a message tonight,” he says, scratching the back of his head, unable to look her in the eye.</p><p>“No, you weren’t.” Her immediate reply makes him look up, expecting to be at the receiving end of her anger. Instead, her eyes crinkle and she lets out a bark of laughter when she sees his fearful expression. She knows him too, and hearing the laugh that he missed so much makes him laugh as well.</p><p>“It was Erik who let it slip, by the way. I just wanted to drop off the key you gave me. I keep forgetting to return it.” She places the keychain on the countertop.</p><p>“Thanks.”</p><p>The air is filled with tension, so many things unsaid between them but neither of them knowing where to start. He hates the idea that their last conversation will be a meaningless one when she brought so much joy into his life.</p><p>“If...” Liv starts, and Ji-pyeong’s breath catches. “If things don’t work out in Seoul, come and find me, okay?”</p><p>He smiles at her sadly. “You’ll probably be married with kids by then.”</p><p>“God, I hope so,” she says playfully, which makes Ji-pyeong chuckle. Just like that, the tension is gone. It’s easier to look each other in the eye now and he realizes that even though they didn’t work out, their connection is still there. They may need some time apart and their lives may move in different directions but he will always have a friend in her, and she in him.</p><p>“I’ll keep in touch,” he says before she leaves, and means it. He wants to know what she’s up to, what she’s doing with her life even if he won’t be a part of it anymore. He watches her figure retreat in the hallway, not knowing when he’ll see her again, but hoping that she’ll have found her happiness when he does.</p><p>*</p><p>His return to Korea doesn’t fully sink in until he is standing in the middle of Incheon Airport. Around him, he can finally hear his native language, instead of being the oddity that he has to strain to hear in public places for the past several years. Excitement thrums under his skin, and he can’t help but remember how much it contrasts with the emptiness he felt the last time he was here. He is home, at last, and he’s ready to build his future.</p><p>He gets in the company car and, when the driver asks if he wants to head to the hotel, he pauses to think. He briefly considers going straight to the office. It is a weekday after all and, while there is some work to be done, he’s more eager to see the place, meet the people who have come in since he transferred, see who else is left from the old days. But there is one place he needs to visit before that, and he tells the driver the address.</p><p>It’s a bit far from the airport, and Ji-pyeong gets lost in his thoughts during the long drive. His old apartment is still being leased out for another year, so he needs to start looking for a place to stay in as soon as he can. He mentally calculates the time difference between Seoul and Chicago, and figures out an appropriate time to call to let everyone know that he made it back safely. He imagines what it would be like when he sets foot in the office, whether it will still feel familiar or will it be strange, given the time that has passed. He thinks about how he would feel when he runs into the people from Chungmyung Company, if the weariness he used to feel around them would come back, or if he would find something else in its place. Lastly, he wonders if the weight in his chest will still be there when he sees Dal-mi. He remembers feeling it whenever he was in her presence, whether or not she was with Do-san, and it served as a bitter reminder of what he could never have, despite his best efforts.</p><p>The driver informs him that they’ve arrived. Ji-pyeong steps out into the sun, thinking that he picked a perfect day to come home. It’s been years since he last paid a visit, but he remembers the path perfectly, following the trail until he comes to a stop. He stands in front of a gravestone, and he sees some old flowers at the bottom of the marker.</p><p>“I’m sorry I forgot to get you flowers, Halmeoni. I came straight from the airport to see you.” He laughs sheepishly. He squats down so he’s at eye-level with her marker, and he starts telling her his stories during the last two and a half years— about the people he met, the things he did, and the realizations he had about himself. He can imagine her laughing at his jokes, scolding him for the times he was too hard on himself, being proud of how much he’s grown. The tears fall from his eyes unbidden, and he quickly wipes them away, standing so as not to lose his balance.</p><p>“I’m home now, Halmeoni. I missed you.” His voice breaks. “I miss you.”</p><p>He stands in silence and closes his eyes, listening to the sounds of nature. Silly as it seems, he thinks that maybe if he tries hard enough, he’ll hear her calling his name one more time, and he won’t even mind if she uses her favorite moniker.</p><p>“Mr. Han? Is that you?”</p><p>It’s a voice he’s all too familiar with, but isn’t prepared to hear just yet. He thought he had a few more hours before he had to reckon with the question he asked himself on the way here. </p><p>He opens his eyes and turns around. When their eyes meet, he has his answer. His heart feels light, and a smile spreads across his face at the sight of Seo Dal-mi walking towards him, a matching smile on her face.</p><p>“Welcome back, Mr. Han. How have you been?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much for your comments and for waiting for this update :) This was a struggle to write, because I knew what kind of development I wanted Ji-pyeong to have, but didn’t quite know how to get there. I really just wanted to hug him at the end of the drama and tell him that there was nothing wrong with him. So this is me telling him that. HAHAHA</p><p>And finally, they meet again! Thank you for your patience in waiting for the JiDal part of this story. It’s tricky to untangle canon, and I wanted to do a time-skip with some significant character growth. Now onto the JiDal fix-it, but fair warning, this is a slow burn. :)</p><p>Thank you for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. you’re reassembled just like me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dal-mi almost didn’t believe it when she saw him.</p><p> </p><p>In front of her grandmother’s grave stood a tall man in a long coat with his hair cut neatly at the back. It could have been anyone had she been in Seoul but here in Halmeoni’s resting place, there is only one man who would fit that description.</p><p> </p><p>“Mr. Han? Is that you?”</p><p> </p><p>When he turns to confirm her suspicions, her lips quirk upwards in pleasant surprise, blooming into a full smile as her steps quicken to reach where he stands. His trademark dimpled smile is a sight for sore eyes, his hair shorter than she’s ever seen on him. As much as she would like to catalogue all that has changed from when she saw him last, what strikes her the most is the newfound brightness in his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“Welcome back, Mr. Han. How have you been?”</p><p> </p><p>He chuckles. “It’s been a long time since I heard someone call me that. I guess I need to get used to it again.”</p><p> </p><p>“Are you back? For how long?”</p><p> </p><p>“For good,” he says firmly.</p><p> </p><p>His declaration sparks her interest. Despite not keeping in touch, she knows he was doing well in the U.S.; after all, there is nowhere that Han Ji-pyeong won’t survive and thrive. And while the old Dal-mi would ask him for the reason if only to satisfy her curiosity, she recognizes that she may not be privy to that information anymore, given the time that has passed and the distance between them. For now, she simply nods.</p><p> </p><p>“When did you get back?”</p><p> </p><p>“A few hours ago. I went here straight from the airport.”</p><p> </p><p>She can see it now as she studies him: the bags under his eyes, the pallor of his face, how his lips curl inward every now and then to stop himself from yawning. She should probably let him go so he can rest, but there’s a small part of her that wonders if she’ll ever see him again after she does.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sure Halmeoni’s glad that you’re back— I’m... glad,” she tells him with a small smile, which he returns with a nod. It feels awkward, given that their relationship wasn’t particularly close before he left, but the sentiment is genuine and she hopes he knows it.</p><p> </p><p>He gestures to the flowers she’s holding and Dal-mi laughs. “Right, I almost forgot about that.”</p><p> </p><p>She lays them down in front of the marker, replacing the old ones, and closes her eyes to say a prayer to her grandmother in her head. She hears him take a step back, her heart skipping a beat at the thought of him leaving. But when it doesn’t go further, she mentally breathes a sigh of relief, knowing that he simply wants to give her some privacy.</p><p> </p><p>When she finishes, she turns to see him rubbing his eyes, exhaustion finally catching up to him. “I can give you a ride back to your apartment, if you need one.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s alright, I have a driver waiting but thanks.”</p><p> </p><p>They start walking back to the parking lot. If she slows down her steps intentionally, she tells herself it’s because she doesn’t want to tire him out while matching her pace.</p><p> </p><p>He breaks the silence. “I’ll be staying at a hotel, actually. My apartment’s still being rented out.”</p><p> </p><p>“Do you want to stay with me instead?” The offer slips out of her before she can stop herself. When she realizes what she said, she blushes profusely, unable to meet his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh... no, that’s okay,” he says with an awkward laugh. “Besides, I don’t want to impose on you and Do-san.”</p><p> </p><p>The mention of his name brings a painful twinge to Dal-mi’s chest. It has only been a few months since their divorce was finalized, and they haven’t seen each other since. Every now and then, she wonders how he’s doing, catches herself when she wants to share a thought or an idea and there’s no one around. But she has no regrets; after all, Seo Dal-mi has never regretted anything in her life.</p><p> </p><p>“We’re, um, we’re not together anymore,” she says quietly, not even sure if he will hear it. The abrupt way he stops in his tracks tells her that he did.</p><p> </p><p>He keeps opening and closing his mouth, but nothing actually comes out. Dal-mi’s used to this reaction; she had seen it too many times when she broke the news to everyone else. Ji-pyeong is just a few months late.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry to hear that,” is what he finally settles on. Again, another sentence that Dal-mi is used to hearing by now. What Dal-mi hated when she told people about her divorce was the awkward turn the conversation took after. Thus, over time, she had become an expert in diffusing the situation.</p><p> </p><p>“Staying in a hotel is expensive, though. You probably took a pay cut when you decided to move back here,” she teases him.</p><p> </p><p>He immediately protests but stops. She can see him doing the calculations in his head and the moment he realizes that she’s right. “Not by much,” he mutters almost inaudibly before they share a laugh.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you going to buy a new apartment?”</p><p> </p><p>He nods. “I’ll look for one this weekend.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m free to drive you around, if you want help. I also have good taste in apartments,” she jests.</p><p> </p><p>“No, that’s okay, thank you.” He brushes off her offer once again, and she tries not to let it sting.</p><p> </p><p>They continue to walk and Dal-mi’s head races with all the questions she wants to ask him. How was your life in Chicago? What have you been up to all these years? Why did you come back to Korea? The questions pile up as they get closer to her car but she keeps them to herself, unsure which ones she has a right to ask.</p><p> </p><p>“So, this is me,” she tells him when they reach her car.</p><p> </p><p>He bows his head to bid her goodbye. “It was good seeing you, Dal-mi.”</p><p> </p><p>“Can I... ask for your number?” The unexpected request surprises him. Dal-mi backtracks slightly, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. “Only if you want to keep in touch, I guess.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, it’s not that. I don’t have a Korean number yet,” he says sheepishly.</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, maybe I can save my number on your phone instead?”</p><p> </p><p>He fishes out his phone and unlocks it, hands it to her. She types out her details and returns the phone back to him. “Let me know if you change your mind about apartment-hunting this weekend.”</p><p> </p><p>She gets in the car and drives off, watching his figure become smaller and smaller in the side mirror until she turns and he disappears completely. Disappointment washes over her at the thought of this being the last time they’ll see each other for a long time. He won’t reach out to her; she wouldn’t if she was in his shoes. Halmeoni’s gone, they work in different places now, there’s nothing tying them together anymore. She admits that she hadn’t spared him a thought after he left, too preoccupied with her marriage, her work, her divorce, her dreams. Now that they’ve crossed paths again, she wonders how much he’s changed, and whether or not she’ll get a chance to know the answer.</p><p> </p><p>It’s at the end of a completely packed work day when she notices a message from an unknown number in her phone.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Hi Dal-mi, it’s Ji-pyeong. If the offer for apartment-hunting still stands, do you want to meet at the Sandbox lobby this Saturday? Let me know what time works for you. Thanks.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>The bustle of Seoul is something that Ji-pyeong is getting used to all over again. Saturday night is understandably busy for a park in the middle of the city, and Ji-pyeong’s efforts to avoid colliding with people have made him bump into Dal-mi’s side one too many times.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry about that, again. What were you saying?” He keeps his hands in his pockets and his arms close to his sides as he walks beside her.</p><p> </p><p>“I think the view of the river in the first apartment was really nice. And it’s kind of big, too,” she tells him, voice still chipper, as if they haven’t spent nearly the whole day going around Seoul and listening to the same spiels from different realtors. Thank goodness they’re done now, and all that’s left is for Ji-pyeong to feed Dal-mi as a token of gratitude. “Which one did you like?”</p><p> </p><p>Ji-pyeong thinks about it, but the answer comes easily to him. “The last one.”</p><p> </p><p>“Seriously?” Dal-mi turns to him, surprise written all over her face.</p><p> </p><p>“Why? What’s wrong with it?” He racks his brain for any red flags that the realtor might have mentioned. He can’t remember any.</p><p> </p><p>“Nothing, it’s a great apartment,” she backtracks quickly. “But it’s the smallest of all the ones we’ve seen, isn’t it? And the view is still nice, I guess, but it’s not the river. I thought you liked that.”</p><p> </p><p>“I did?”</p><p> </p><p>“I just assumed you would pick something similar to your old apartment, that’s all.”</p><p> </p><p>His old apartment was nice, and the sole reason he picked his Chicago apartment was the resemblance. Now though, he finds himself considering other things. “Ah, well, my old place was too big for just me. And what I really liked about the last one was that it’s the closest to this park, which has a good running trail.”</p><p> </p><p>“Running?” He can hear the disbelief in her voice.</p><p> </p><p>“I picked it up as a hobby back in the States. Helps me clear my head,” he explains. She nods, some bewilderment still in her face , and he jokingly asks, “It doesn’t suit me because I’m clumsy, does it?”</p><p> </p><p>“A little,” she responds with a chuckle.</p><p> </p><p>There’s a lot that Dal-mi didn’t know about him back then, and there’s still a lot that she doesn’t know now. He stares at her thoughtfully, and he realizes that the same holds true for Dal-mi. From their conversations, he’s gotten a glimpse of what her life has been like, the complete opposite of how relatively uneventful his life in Chicago was. She’s gone through a lot, and the Seo Dal-mi from two and a half years ago is a far cry from the Seo Dal-mi that walks beside him now.</p><p> </p><p>His stomach rumbles, which prompts them both to burst into laughter. “What do you want to eat? My office is near this area, so I know a lot of restaurants. There’s a ramen place, an Italian place— oh, did you miss Korean food? There’s a good one but it’s a bit of a walk,” she tells him excitedly.</p><p> </p><p>Try as he might, he can’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. “It’s my treat for coming with me. Pick what you want.”</p><p> </p><p>“Seriously? You mean it?” Her eyes get bigger and her voice gets higher, which makes him grin wider and nod.“Alright! I know just the place.”</p><p> </p><p>She points to her right and, of course, there’s a fried chicken joint across the street. Ji-pyeong laughs and follows along.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe, despite everything, some things just never change.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>When Dal-mi wakes up at two in the afternoon and opens her phone, the last thing she expects to see is a photo from Han Ji-pyeong. She hasn’t heard from him in a week, the last time was when she dropped him off at his hotel after scouring the entirety of Seoul for his new apartment. Work had been busy, as usual, and checking up on him had completely slipped her mind.</p><p> </p><p>She opens the notification and it’s a set of house keys, with the caption reading, <em>I’m not homeless anymore.</em></p><p> </p><p>It startles a laugh out of her, and her fingers tap out a quick reply.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Dal-mi [2:08 PM]: Yay! We should celebrate. Do you have plans tonight? :)</em>
</p><p> </p><p>After spending the day with him, she had become less self-conscious about being in his company. In the past, it had been awkward and uncomfortable. Despite her boldness during her early days in Sandbox, she always saw him as a mentor, someone who would guide her and look out for her, someone from whom she had so much to learn. When she learned that he was the boy from the letters, she felt embarrassed more than anything, the idea of a person she held in such high esteem professionally knowing some of her most personal thoughts and feelings. The revelation made her build a wall between them that prevented her from learning about him, despite knowing how he felt about her, despite his connection with her family, despite his steady presence all those years. Only after she finally chose Do-san did she realize how much she hurt him, and now that he is back, she’s determined to make it up to him however she can.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Ji-pyeong [2:09 PM]: No plans, what do you have in mind?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>To be honest, going out is the last thing Dal-mi likes doing on weekends after a stressful work week; Sa-ha and even In-jae had to drag her out of her apartment on numerous occasions, especially after she got divorced, telling her that she needs a life outside her career. This Saturday feels pretty much the same; she wants to stay in her pajamas all day, take a nice long bath later, eat, sleep, and lounge around. But she also wants to see Ji-pyeong, and she doesn’t want to flake on him by initiating plans then taking it back. So, after checking what’s in her fridge and deciding that her apartment is in a presentable state, she sends him another message.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Dal-mi [2:15 PM]: Would you be up for having dinner at my place? Sorry, it’s been a tiring week, and I don’t feel like going out. I have dumplings and side dishes from my mom, but we can order in too. But it’s okay if you want to eat somewhere else, we can make plans another time :)</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Ji-pyeong [2:17 PM]: Are those the ones we used to make with Halmeoni? I missed those. Sure, I can come over for dinner, just give me your address. If you’re too tired though, we can do a raincheck, it’s fine.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Dal-mi [2:18 PM]: 7PM? I’ll feel better if I had company. I’ll send my address in a bit. Let me know if you want me to order anything. See you!</em>
</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>At 7PM sharp, Ji-pyeong shows up bearing tteokbokki and helps Dal-mi set up the table, no matter how many times she tells him to stay put. It feels new, having someone over at her place. The only other person who’s stayed longer than half an hour since she moved here after her divorce was her mom, and that was usually just to cook or clean while she slept. She had forgotten what it felt like to share her space with someone comfortably, not tinged with animosity and tension.</p><p> </p><p>Once the food has been laid out, she grabs two bottles of soju from her fridge and hands him one. “I’m glad I took a cab tonight,” he tells her as he opens a bottle.</p><p> </p><p>They dig in, conversation flowing smoothly between them. He talks about what he got up to in Chicago, telling her about the people he met, the memories he made. She had already been thinking it when she saw him but his stories tonight confirm it: his move to the U.S. served him well, and she wonders what made him come back to a place that brought him more misery than happiness. She eventually asks him the question, two more bottles and fewer inhibitions later.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I had a girlfriend at that time—” Hearing that makes Dal-mi straighten up in her seat but thankfully, Ji-pyeong doesn’t notice. It’s not like she thought he would still be holding a torch for her; she did get married before he left. Her surprise stems from wondering what kind of woman he dated in another country, or at least that’s how she rationalizes it in her alcohol-laden head.</p><p> </p><p>“—and when we started talking about the future, I wanted to settle down here and she didn’t. It just wasn’t going to work out. I realized that I was delaying things by staying there, staying with her.” She can hear a wistfulness in his voice, the kind that comes with loving someone deeply but also knowing that things are better this way.</p><p> </p><p>“She seems like a great person,” is all she can offer.</p><p> </p><p>“She is,” he confirms with a small smile. “We’re still friends, actually. I spoke to her a few days ago.”</p><p> </p><p>That’s an interesting dynamic, she thinks, one that she can hardly imagine for her and Do-san. Perhaps the biggest difference is that they were married, and the decision to get a divorce wasn’t exactly mutual. She had accepted his rage in the months before the divorce was finalized, how she had always been selfish, making decisions alone even if it affected their marriage. She had taken it all, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. And maybe it’s because of that lingering resentment that she can’t see her and Do-san ever becoming friends, no matter how many years have passed.</p><p> </p><p>She doesn’t realize that she’s been staring into space until she notices Ji-pyeong snapping his fingers in front of her face. “Are you sleepy already?”</p><p> </p><p>She shakes her head. “No, I was just thinking. I’m slightly envious that you and your ex are still friends. That’s never going to happen for me and Do-san.”</p><p> </p><p>“Is it something that you want?” he asks slowly. “To be friends with him?”</p><p> </p><p>“Not really. Or maybe I’m only saying that because I keep coming back to the bad stuff, I don’t know.”</p><p> </p><p>She can see him scrutinizing her, brow furrowing as he tries to think of what to say next. “Can I,” he finally speaks. “Can I ask what happened?”</p><p> </p><p>Dal-mi never told anyone the complete story of how things ended between her and Do-san. Sa-ha, In-jae, and her mom only got the gist of it, Dal-mi being careful not to reveal too much since they knew him personally. She didn’t dare to open up to anyone in the office, knowing full well that her work was a major factor in their divorce, albeit not the sole reason. Ji-pyeong, though, is in a unique spot. He knows the people involved, but no longer has ties to any of them. He knows the history of their relationship, but was absent during its demise. She could tell him everything, and maybe she could finally stop beating herself up for her failed marriage.</p><p> </p><p>She downs another shot of soju and takes a deep breath. Just the thought of talking about this already makes her eyes well up, but Ji-pyeong says nothing and patiently waits for her to speak.</p><p> </p><p>“I think it was mostly my fault, you know? I used to feel so small around you guys— Do-san, In-jae, you— because you were all so far ahead in whatever you were doing and there I was, asking for your help at every turn, just to catch up. It got better over the years, sure, but it never fully went away.” She casts a quick look at him but his expression remains unreadable.</p><p> </p><p>“So when the opportunity came to do something by myself, I took it. I didn’t think I had to worry about my marriage, because we’ve always been supportive of each other. But in retrospect, maybe I should have known. He wasn’t happy when I told him about the job, and I should have realized early on that he would be less happy once I started working late.”</p><p> </p><p>“Would that have changed anything? If you knew then that taking the job would lead to your divorce, would you still take it?”</p><p> </p><p>It’s a question she’s thought about a lot. And while her answer changes depending on the story she wants to tell herself, for tonight, she decides to go with her first instinct, which she’s always believed to be the closest to the truth. “No, I wouldn’t. If I could go back to the night when I told him that I would leave Chungmyung Company, I would take it all back.”</p><p> </p><p>She expects him to answer back with the same things she keeps saying in her head: if you valued your marriage that much, why did you let it fall apart? If you really loved him, why couldn’t you be more understanding of his needs? Instead, he just nods and signals for her to go on.</p><p> </p><p>“At that time though, I didn’t know what it felt like to succeed on my own. And as I got a taste of it, I became greedy for more, and our marriage took a backseat to my career. But it wasn’t really my career as much as it was... me.” Her voice breaks at the last word, and she eventually starts sobbing, covering her face with her hands. It was always that realization that broke her to pieces. Do-san was right; her selfishness ultimately destroyed their marriage and when he gave her a chance to fix it, she simply threw it back in his face.</p><p> </p><p>“Dal-mi...” She hears him stand up and when she lifts her head from her hands, there’s a box of tissues in front of her. She grabs a few and dries her eyes and cheeks, blowing her nose without regard for her guest.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry, we’re supposed to be celebrating and instead, you’re listening to my sob fest.”</p><p> </p><p>“I asked, remember? So you can talk about it all you want. Or something else, if you’ve had enough. I’ll listen, whatever the case.” The look in his eyes is familiar, and she recognizes it as his sincere desire to provide her comfort, an expression she had been on the receiving end of many times in the past.</p><p> </p><p>Calming herself down, she continues, “I knew I wasn’t being fair to him so I tried to fix what I can. But we still couldn’t connect and I thought maybe it was because we were forcing it. That instead of fighting it, maybe we should just accept that our relationship— and we ourselves— have changed. But I didn’t think that would mean the end of us. I was willing to do anything to make it work, except the one thing he wanted. He asked me to choose between my career and him. And you can probably tell what choice I made.”</p><p> </p><p>She pours herself a shot and drinks it, the bitter taste pulling her back from her memories and to the present, as Ji-pyeong looks on. “It’s crazy, isn’t it? What kind of married woman, when faced with that choice, picks her job over her husband? There are tons of jobs out there. It shouldn’t have even been a choice, he said to me, and he was right.”</p><p> </p><p>“So why didn’t you choose him?”</p><p> </p><p>“Because,” she starts, voice small and unable to meet his eyes. “To me, it felt like the choice wasn’t between him and my job, but him and me. And the moment he asked, my first thought was, how could you ask me to pick you over myself? Selfish, right?”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t think so,” he says after a beat. His response to her rhetorical question surprises them both. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to say that out loud. Go on.”</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t have to be nice to me.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not being nice,” he protests, voice firm. The only indication that he’s drunk more than he can handle is his unfiltered opinion on Dal-mi’s story thus far, or maybe it’s simply Ji-pyeong returning to form. “If you want to call yourself selfish, go ahead. But it was also selfish of him to ask you to choose. Being with him and following your dreams, that’s not a zero-sum game. He made it that way. Why would he back you into a corner and expect things to go his way? Even if you chose him, you would have resented him and maybe you still would have ended up here. If he really knew you as well as he thought he did, he should’ve known it would backfire on him.”</p><p> </p><p>It’s something she knew deep down, but needed to hear from someone else. That someone else being Han Ji-pyeong in this moment, as well as his indignation on her behalf, are enough to put a smile on her face despite the depressing topic. When she says nothing but only looks at him fondly, he groans and downs a shot.</p><p> </p><p>“I got carried away, didn’t I? I wasn’t badmouthing him, I haven’t seen the guy in years. I don’t hate him or anything. I was just stating my opinion.” He gestures wildly with his empty shot glass, and that’s Dal-mi’s cue to take it away from him before he breaks anything.</p><p> </p><p>“I know. Don’t be defensive.” She laughs at his attempts to get his glass back before she places it back down on the table. Reaching for a bottle, she realized that they’ve finished all six bottles she has at home, and neither of them are in the state to go out and buy more. “Do you want to hear some bad news?”</p><p> </p><p>“We’ve run out of soju.” He sighs and checks his watch. “It’s pretty late, anyway. I should probably go.”</p><p> </p><p>He stands up on shaky legs and almost falls over, catching himself with a hand on the wall. She reaches out to help him, but he waves her off, insisting that he’s fine.</p><p> </p><p>“Why don’t you just stay here for the night? I have a big couch.” She already knows that he’s going to reject her offer, stubborn as he is.</p><p> </p><p>“No, that’s okay,” he tells her without looking at her, fumbling with his phone instead. “Actually, can I sober up on your couch for a bit? Just until I can walk without possibly hurting myself.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure, go ahead.” She waits until he sits on the sofa and closes his eyes before she turns her back to him and starts cleaning the dishes. If Ji-pyeong finds running helpful in clearing his head, it’s washing the dishes that does the trick for Dal-mi. There’s something therapeutic about it, the mundaneness of the task, the small satisfaction at seeing a stack of clean dishes and utensils neatly arranged in the corner. She couldn’t think of a better way to end a night that feels like the beginning of her healing.</p><p> </p><p>Tonight was unexpected, in a good kind of way. Ever since Halmeoni died, she had never felt comfortable enough to open herself completely to anyone, not even to Do-san when they were married. She figured she could heal by distracting herself with work and keeping busy instead. Tonight made her realize, however, that she needed to talk it out with someone. And the ease with which she was able to do that with Ji-pyeong, despite their past and the years that have passed, is a surprise to say the least.</p><p> </p><p>Once she finishes in the kitchen, she heads to the living room to find Ji-pyeong sound asleep, with his hands crossed in front of his chest. He looks peaceful and Dal-mi carefully brings a blanket over his sleeping form. She leaves a note beside his phone to remind him to lock the door when he leaves, and heads to her own room to finally get some rest.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>Ji-pyeong expects to wake up in darkness but instead, the sun is streaming through the curtains and he can hear the muffled sound of an old pop song through one of the doors. Getting up from the couch feels like an impossible task with how heavy his body feels, and his pounding headache isn’t helping. The clock on the wall reads 10:30AM and the pictures beside it confirm that he never left Dal-mi’s house last night. He groans and covers his eyes with his forearm.</p><p> </p><p>“There’s a glass of water and some painkillers on the table,” Dal-mi says as she comes out of the bathroom, looking the complete opposite of how he feels. He takes them hurriedly, but it takes a few minutes for him to feel strong enough to get off the couch. He heads to the bathroom, washes his face and fixes his hair, hoping that he looks somewhat decent when he comes out.</p><p> </p><p>“How can you be so chipper after how much we drank last night?” He is genuinely bewildered at how perfectly fine she seems, even waking up earlier than he did. He may be a lightweight, sure, but he doesn’t think she’s that different from him in that regard.</p><p> </p><p>“I was talking most of the night so you ended up drinking most of the alcohol.” He’s in the middle of grabbing his phone and wallet from the table when she stops him. “Hey, what are you doing?”</p><p> </p><p>“Heading back to the hotel?”</p><p> </p><p>She shakes her head and grabs her keys near the door. “I’ll drive you. Come on.”</p><p> </p><p>He starts protesting but she takes his arm, laughing as she drags him out of her apartment. “I’m not letting you take a cab. Stop being stubborn.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fine, fine.” He shakes off her hand and pretends to roll his eyes, but he gives her a grateful smile when their eyes meet.</p><p> </p><p>His hotel is about half an hour from her place, and the peaceful silence during the drive allows Ji-pyeong to think about what happened last night. He had no intention of asking about her divorce, ever. Not because he didn’t care, not because he still had any feelings for her, but because he didn’t think their relationship was like that. Sure, they are more comfortable with each other now compared to before, but that is mostly because they’ve gotten over the things that happened in the past and are starting anew. He didn’t think that she considered him close enough to open up to him. But with the way she talked about Do-san, he sensed that she needed to let it out, and his hunch was right.</p><p> </p><p>Once again, he can’t help but admire her for making that choice even if it was hard, even if it cost her something precious. It makes him draw a parallel to his and Liv’s relationship, how grateful he is that neither of them made the other person choose, and that’s how they are able to still be in each other’s lives, even if things between them didn’t turn out the way they wanted. Knowing that he hasn’t lost Liv completely helped him heal his wounds faster and though the same can’t be said for Dal-mi, he hopes his friendship is at least a comfort to her during this difficult time.</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t realize that he’s been staring at her until she turns to face him during a red light. “You’re so out of it, aren’t you?”</p><p> </p><p>He laughs and rubs his eyes. “I haven’t had a hangover in years.”</p><p> </p><p>“We’re almost there. Do you want to eat before I drop you off, though? I feel like you’ll just fall asleep again and wake up at night without having eaten anything.”</p><p> </p><p>Her concern warms his heart, and he nods. “There’s this noodle place we can go to. It’s probably open by now.”</p><p> </p><p>He gives her directions to the restaurant and once they have parked, Dal-mi turns to him with a soft gaze. “Thank you for listening last night.”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t mention it.” The show of gratitude makes him blush and he exits the car with her trailing behind him.</p><p> </p><p>There aren’t that many people, considering that it’s a Sunday and the restaurant just opened. They pick a table by the window facing the street. After ordering, Ji-pyeong takes in the surroundings. He feels like he’s been here before, probably had a bowl or two, which isn’t surprising given that it’s walking distance from Sandbox. But even sitting here with Dal-mi feels strangely familiar.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you feel this weird deja vu that we’ve been here before—“ he starts to ask but stops when he realizes the answer to his own question. From the look on Dal-mi’s face, she realizes it, too.</p><p> </p><p>It’s not deja vu, because they’ve been here before, in this same exact table, seated in the exact same way. For the first time since they’ve tacitly agreed to become friends, an awkwardness seeps between them but Ji-pyeong, with the memories rushing back to him, diffuses the situation with a laugh and a sheepish smile.</p><p> </p><p>“I can’t believe we’re here again. Relax. It was a long time ago,” he chides her.</p><p> </p><p>“I know.” She puts on a blank face, seemingly unaffected, but he notices the tension leave her shoulders.</p><p> </p><p>“You know, I didn’t really plan on confessing that day. I just wanted to explain and to answer your questions, but I was so nervous that I kept saying whatever popped in my head,” he recalls, shaking his head at the memory.</p><p> </p><p>She casts him a side-eye. “You didn’t seem nervous at all, from what I remember.”</p><p> </p><p>“I just never show it. Didn’t you know that about me?” he says with faux cockiness. He gets her to roll her eyes and laugh, and just like that, they bring up stories from their shared past: their memories with Halmeoni, Dal-mi’s mishaps in Sandbox, Ji-pyeong’s ridiculous efforts to keep Do-san’s real identity. It’s funny, he thinks, how these same memories used to bring him so much pain, the kind of memories he would have kept locked in a box forever as he moved on with his life. But now, years later, time has stripped away its power to hurt him, and he can look back on them with humor and fondness.</p><p> </p><p>When their food arrives, he lets Dal-mi mix her own bowl of noodles. As for his own dish, he remembers ordering it before, but this also feels like it is his first time tasting it, and it’s delicious. He would like to keep coming back here, along with a few other places: the spot in Seoul where Halmeoni’s corn dog stand used to be, the Sandbox rooftop, and the bird house. Going to those places probably won’t hurt anymore, but he also wants to have a reason to keep coming back.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe, he thinks, now that he’s let go of the past, it’s finally time to create new memories.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much for reading and for your patience! Real life has started again so my slow writing pace has become even slower. I hope you enjoyed this chapter :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. and I know it's easy to say, but it's harder to feel this way</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Attachments included, notes complete, alright, send!” Dal-mi exclaims as she finally hits the send button and packs her things. </p><p>It’s already 8:30PM, an hour past the time she was supposed to meet Ji-pyeong for dinner, and he’s probably been waiting in the restaurant for longer than that, given how early he usually is. He’s only texted her twice tonight: the first was to let her know that he’s already inside and got a table, and the second was to ask if there was anything she wanted him to order ahead for her. In both cases, her reply was a frazzled apology with a promise that she’s almost done, which was also broken twice. He told her not to worry but she wasn’t that shameless, and so she pushed herself to finish her work faster, hoping that she won’t wake up to a barrage of emails tomorrow telling her she did something wrong. As soon as her laptop shuts down, she stuffs it in her bag and hurries towards the elevator, pressing the down button repeatedly, as if that would make the elevator come faster.</p><p>“What’s the rush?” Seol asks as she walks towards Dal-mi, probably on her way home.</p><p>“I’m meeting a friend for dinner, and I’ve been keeping him waiting for more than an hour,” she explains. She doesn’t miss the mischievous smile on Seol’s face at hearing the word ‘him’, but is thankfully saved by the elevator arriving.</p><p>They’re alone and Dal-mi’s messaging Ji-pyeong that she’s on her way, when Seol turns to her with a knowing look. “A male friend, huh?”</p><p>Dal-mi rolls her eyes and shakes her head, but she can feel the blood rushing to her face. “It’s really not what you think. He’s an old friend.”</p><p>“Ah, I see. So if something were to happen, it would have happened already,” Seol says thoughtfully.</p><p>Well, the truth is a lot more complicated, but Seol doesn’t need to know that. Dal-mi nods and leaves it at that. The doors open and she throws a quick goodbye to Seol over her shoulder, heading out into the chilly night.</p><p>The restaurant is a 15-minute walk from her office building, but Dal-mi makes it in ten. She spots Ji-pyeong seated by the window, but he doesn’t see her because he’s engrossed in his phone, thumbs tapping rapidly on the screen, brows slightly furrowed. A pause, then a bark of laughter escapes him, his smile and dimples lighting up his face. There’s something about the sight of it that warms Dal-mi’s heart, how easily and frequently Ji-pyeong smiles now, despite his seriousness towards work and the things that matter to him remaining the same. It’s a feeling she often has in his presence, one that she doesn’t want to think too deeply about.</p><p>She takes the seat across him, and the sound of the chair being pulled back makes him lift his head. The surprise in his eyes and the hurried way he locks and puts away his phone don’t escape Dal-mi.</p><p>“So sorry that I’m late. I got caught up in a rush assignment,” she tells him.</p><p>“It’s fine. We’ve all been there,” he responds with a warm smile. They lock eyes for what feels like an eternity to Dal-mi but the moment is broken by consecutive ringing sounds coming from the inside of Ji-pyeong’s coat pocket.</p><p>“You should check that. Maybe it’s important,” Dal-mi says as she reads through the menu.</p><p>He retrieves his phone and a grin flashes briefly across his face, his expression returning to neutral after responding and putting his phone down. “You know what you want to order?”</p><p>Dal-mi nods. “I want to eat something delicious after the day I’ve had. By the way,” she says, noticing the empty table. “You stayed here for over an hour without ordering anything?”</p><p>He scratches the back of his head sheepishly. “Of course not. I ordered an appetizer and I really tried to leave some for you but, well. It wouldn’t have tasted good cold so let’s just say I did you a favor.”</p><p>She lets out her first genuine laugh of the day, and Dal-mi feels all the tension that’s been building up inside her since this morning leave her body. Spending time with Ji-pyeong has always been her favorite stress reliever since he returned from the U.S. a year ago. Despite their equally busy schedules, they find time to meet up every few weeks or so, Ji-pyeong’s apartment being near Dal-mi’s office a huge plus for weekday dinners like tonight.</p><p>Once they’ve placed their orders, they catch each other up on what’s been happening in their own lives. Dal-mi talks about her growing plant collection and how she probably needs to buy them a shelf, to which he responds by telling her to stop buying plants whenever she gets stressed out. Ji-pyeong talks about an analyst who got an earful from him after making a mistake that took his team an entire week to fix. He tells her that the incident made him realize that he hasn’t changed as much as he thought he has, to which Dal-mi sort of disagrees. “I mean, you weren’t that bad to begin with.”</p><p>He shoots her a skeptical look. “Really now? Coming from you?”</p><p>“I told you something like this all those years ago.” She can’t believe he doesn’t remember their conversation in the pop-up tent; she had always considered that as special, one of the few times she actually followed his advice. “After 2STO acquired Samsan Tech? Still not ringing a bell?”</p><p>“Ah, I remember now. I guess I thought you were just being nice, since I looked terrible back then.”</p><p>She recoils at the memory, fully aware of how things played out between him and Do-san that day, but she’s glad Ji-pyeong can laugh about it now. His phone chimes again, four times in a row, and she looks at him in concern. Maybe it’s just her, but she’s always associated messages like that at this time of the day with work-related emergencies. But he was grinning earlier, so it’s probably nothing of the sort. To her surprise, he ignores it and launches into his next story.</p><p>“Hold on, aren’t you going to read that?” She gestures to his phone that’s lying face down on the table.</p><p>“Nah, it can wait. It’s just someone I met last weekend. I’ll reply to her later.”</p><p>Whatever worry she was feeling earlier has been completely replaced by an unsettling and inexplicable disappointment. It’s not like Ji-pyeong has kept it a secret that he’s dating; after all, he did come back to Korea with the intention of settling down and building a family with someone. The topic just never came up between them, maybe because of Ji-pyeong being considerate of her divorce, maybe because of Dal-mi still being unsure how much of Ji-pyeong’s life she’s allowed to know and settling instead for whatever he’s willing to give her. In any case, the explicit acknowledgement from him that he is dating makes her feel a pang in her chest that she knows shouldn’t be there.</p><p>“I’ll just put this on silent for now.” For good measure, he makes a show of turning the ringer off and placing his phone inside his coat pocket. “There. I’m all yours.”</p><p>You could have been, Dal-mi whispers in her head but catches herself, knowing that that way lies madness.</p><p>*</p><p>Dal-mi enters the office the following day with a bright smile on her face, yesterday’s stress already a long-gone memory after hanging out with Ji-pyeong and seeing a peaceful inbox this morning. Her officemates, however, are throwing her knowing smiles as she passes by them, some of them whispering and giggling.</p><p>“Anyone wants to tell me what’s going on?” she asks her teammates around her as soon as she gets to her seat. They exchange looks, waiting to see who’ll speak first, until Seol breaks the silence.</p><p>“Fine, fine. Some of them saw you having dinner with a guy in a restaurant yesterday. I told them you said he’s an old friend but they still think you’re dating.”</p><p>Dal-mi groans. “We are just friends, guys, I swear.”</p><p>“Awww, but you look so good together,” one of the analysts says.</p><p>“Friends start dating all the time,” another one chirps in.</p><p>“Maybe they just don’t see each other that way. Come on, you all have guy friends. Would you want to date any of them?” Seol, as always, comes to her rescue. The two make disgusted faces, which proves Seol’s point.</p><p>“So is that it? You don’t see him that way?” the first one persists.</p><p>Dal-mi expects Seol to butt in and cut the conversation short, but it seems like even she wants to know the answer. She could just say she doesn’t and end this whole thing, but she would be lying. The truth, or anything close to the truth for that matter, is hardly appropriate for her workmates to know. How does she even begin to explain their history? And so, she goes with a simple explanation.</p><p>“He’s seeing someone,” she says with a tight-lipped smile. </p><p>They all make ‘ahhh’ sounds, followed by an awkward silence. Dal-mi wonders if her statement made her sound pitiful to warrant that response but it achieves what she intended it to. The conversation is dropped and they return to their respective desks.</p><p>It’s a light day compared to her usual: no meetings to attend, no presentations to prepare for, no fires to put out. She looks forward to being able to leave the office early, but she’s at a loss thinking of what to do after. Her days of binge-watching to relax are behind her, she has no hobbies to do to pass the time, and her friends are either settled down or busy with work for her to suggest an impromptu night out. All that’s left is for her to come home to an empty apartment, a prospect that fills her with dreariness these days.</p><p>Almost two years have passed since her divorce from Do-san, and she believes that she’s ready to find love again. She kept her focus on herself these last few years, knowing that in her next relationship, she didn’t want to make the same mistakes as she did in her marriage. Now, she looks forward to the idea of meeting and getting to know someone, opening her heart again and having new adventures with someone by her side. It took her a while to get to this point; after all, her only experiences with love were with the boy from the letters and the boy who pretended to be the boy from the letters. The second one ended terribly, and the first one, well, she will probably have to wonder for the rest of her life what could have been. Nevertheless, they’re all just stories now, and it’s time for her to move forward with her life.</p><p>*</p><p>Among all the holidays, Chuseok is the one event that Dal-mi insists on spending with her family every year. It’s when she misses Halmeoni the most, and being around people who knew and loved her always made her feel better. At one point, it had been a huge gathering, with Do-san and his family joining them, as well as some of the Samsan Tech crew when they didn’t go to their own families. Since the divorce, however, people have understandably taken sides, and the attendees have dwindled down to Dal-mi, In-jae, and their mother. This year, Dal-mi decided to invite a guest to their Chuseok celebration.</p><p>The door rings while they’re in the middle of making songpyeon. Dal-mi, messy hair and apron covered in powder, opens the door to reveal Ji-pyeong, looking soft in his pristine, dark sweater. She ushers him in and he hands her a container with some jeon inside.</p><p>“Did you make these?” Dal-mi asks. “You really didn’t have to, but thank you.”</p><p>“I didn’t. It’s from the orphanage when I dropped by earlier.” When she invited him last year, he turned her down, stating that he planned on spending the day in the orphanage he grew up in, a place he regularly visited since he came back. She didn’t understand why at first, especially since they threw him out as soon as he grew of age. He wanted to give back, he explained, not just by donating money or investing in a related business or product, but in a more meaningful way. Loneliness had been par for the course as an orphan, and what he needed then was someone who would make him feel just a little less lonely, which is exactly what he got from Halmeoni and his letters with Dal-mi.</p><p>She leads him to the kitchen area, where her mother and In-jae are seated across each other. They exchange pleasantries, with her mother being the most delighted at seeing him for the first time in years. He and In-jae bump into each other in the Sandbox complex every now and then, and sometimes even consulting the other for work-related matters. He sits beside In-jae, which leaves Dal-mi to take the seat in front of him.</p><p>It’s the first time that they’re with other people and for once, his focus isn’t on her. As they all make rice cakes and the conversation flows steadily, she finds herself studying him: the easy smile that rests on his face, the crinkles by his eyes when he laughs, his habit of lightly blowing away his hair, the way he looks down and tucks his chin when her mother flatters him. She’s known him as a close friend for over a year now, but it’s only until recently that the little things about him have started to become fascinating to her.</p><p>The day passes as they keep the tradition that they had with Halmeoni: making a feast, playing games, telling stories, reminiscing, and just spending time together in a way that they’re not able to do so in their day-to-day lives. Ji-pyeong fits in seamlessly with them, adding a welcome lightness and humor to the atmosphere. Before long, night has fallen and Ji-pyeong says goodbye, Dal-mi and In-jae saddled with cleaning duties as their mother takes a shower.</p><p>“Dal-mi, is there something going on between you and Ji-pyeong?” In-jae asks, straight to the point as usual.</p><p>Dal-mi throws her a sharp look, not even bothering to dignify her question with a response. </p><p>In-jae, however, is unmoved. “It’s a valid question. You invite him here, you keep staring at him. I’d say you like him, at the very least.”</p><p>“I invited him because he’s my friend and he has no one. And I didn’t stare at him anymore than you or Mom did, what are you talking about?” Dal-mi turns back to the dishes quickly to hide the blush on her cheeks.</p><p>“I’m not hearing a no.”</p><p>Dal-mi puts the plate down and stares straight into In-jae’s eyes. “No, there’s nothing going on. And no, I don’t like him. Happy?” The first one sounds stronger than the second one, but maybe that’s just in Dal-mi’s head.</p><p>“Good. Keep it that way.”</p><p>A pause, as In-jae’s words register with Dal-mi. “What’s that supposed to mean?”</p><p>“You know what it means.”</p><p>“No, I don’t. Do you like him? Is that it?” She has no idea where this is coming from. She never imagined In-jae to be the territorial type.</p><p>“I can’t believe you’re this dense that I have to explain this to you.”</p><p>“Why can’t you just say what you mean?”</p><p>“Fine. In case you forgot, Ji-pyeong is the guy you didn’t choose. He had been in love with you for years and stood by your side, but he never had a chance because you’ve always been in love with someone else. Now that that’s over, the first person you suddenly start having feelings for is Ji-pyeong? Now, when it seems like he’s finally moved on? Give it a break, Dal-mi.”</p><p>There it is, the reason Dal-mi needs to hold her heart back, all laid out in In-jae’s brutal honesty. Of course, she’s thought about it, how unfair it would be to tell him that she’s now able to give him what he waited for all those years ago in vain. It would be cruel to ask him to revisit the past knowing how much pain it caused him, to see if he can manage to feel the same way for her as he did back then. The kind thing to do is to keep their story as one of unrequited love, rather than one of missed timing.</p><p>“I don’t like him,” Dal-mi says, more to herself than In-jae, hoping to believe it once and for all.</p><p>*</p><p>If only it were that easy.</p><p>At that time, In-jae’s words felt like a bucket of cold water poured over her head, the realization that whatever she was starting to feel for Ji-pyeong had to stop. She valued him and his friendship and ruining what they had for a potential romance was out of the question. Still, their routine continued, Dal-mi not wanting him to think that anything was amiss. But as they spent more time together, the more it dawned on her that maybe she was deeper into him than she initially thought. </p><p>He was brilliant at what he did, that was a given, his confidence and charisma naturally drawing people to him in professional settings. But beyond that, he was also kind and caring, albeit in an unconventional way. He gave his smiles more freely now, but his laughter was still something she had to work for. He understood her, just as he did when she was a teenager during the worst time of her life, just as he did when she was older but still lost and trying to prove herself to the world. He was someone she could be herself with completely, the lack of pretense making it easier for her to reveal her innermost thoughts and feelings without fear of judgment. She loved his company, whether they were having all kinds of conversations over a meal, or working on their own endeavors in silence but sharing the same space, or simply being together. </p><p>She liked him, and there was no point in denying it.</p><p>Admitting it to herself, however, didn’t change the fact that In-jae was right. Continuing to see him, no matter how many times she tells herself that they should still be able to do that as friends, doesn’t help stop her burgeoning feelings for him. And so, Dal-mi thinks, maybe what she needs to do is go cold turkey. Not forever, but just until she stops feeling the way she does around him.</p><p>His invitations for dinner are rejected, Dal-mi citing work as an excuse, even if it’s not true for the most part. Her responses to his messages are terse, no longer warm and lengthy, not like when a single message from either one of them would evolve into an hours-long back-and-forth that would usually last until the end of the day. She stops herself from reaching out to him whenever he crosses her mind, whether it is because she saw something that reminded her of him, or because she has a joke or a rant to share with him, or because she wants to know how he is doing. Ji-pyeong, perceptive as he is but never pushy, eventually takes the hint, and simply stops contacting her without asking any questions. His last message on Dal-mi’s phone, after the nth rejection to spend time together, reads, I hope things get better soon.</p><p>Ji-pyeong’s absence in her life leaves a void that she desperately tries to fill. She stays in the office longer to hang out with her teammates, and while they’re a fun group to be around, she feels a need to constantly be “on”, the complete opposite of how relaxed she can be in Ji-pyeong’s company. She says that she’s ready to find love again, but her first date with a friend of a friend over coffee on a weekend is a bust. He seems like a great guy, but it doesn’t help when she starts comparing everything about him to someone else in her head, even down to the way he smiles. It’s a struggle, but one that Dal-mi is eager to get past, if she wants things with J-pyeong to go back to normal again.</p><p>But all her efforts prove futile when she walks through the park near her office on the way home one night, forgetting for a moment why she had been avoiding the place. She comes face-to-face with the reminder, freezing in her tracks at the sight of him standing a few feet away from her. Ji-pyeong approaches her with an uneasy smile and her heart races, unsure of the direction this encounter will go.</p><p>“Dal-mi, are you on your way home?”</p><p>She nods, unable to speak. It’s been a while since he was this close, and it takes considerable effort for her not to take a step forward, wrap him in her arms, and breathe him in.</p><p>“Do you want to grab a bite before you do?”</p><p>She wants to say yes, wants to be with him even if it’s only ever as friends, her impending heartbreak be damned. But she also knows that the right thing to do is to put herself first. She had just finished putting herself back together after her divorce, and she would have to be foolish to let herself be easily broken again.</p><p>“No, thank you,” she says. His face falls in disappointment, but quickly transforms back into a poker face. She belatedly registers that he’s wearing his workout attire. “You should finish your run.”</p><p>“Just one question then, before you go.” His eyes glint with determination, Dal-mi fearful of what he’ll say next. “Why have you been avoiding me?”</p><p>She shakes her head but refuses to look him in the eye. “I’m not.”</p><p>He chuckles sarcastically. “Seriously? I believed it when you said it was work or you had plans. But you’re literally standing in front of me right now and saying no without even bothering to make up an excuse.”</p><p>She has no response to that, and all she can do is deflect. “Since when did I owe you an explanation for how I spend my time?”</p><p>“That’s not what I’m asking and you know it.” He sees right through her. “If I did something wrong, can you at least tell me what it was?”</p><p>“No, that’s not it.”</p><p>“Are you seeing someone and it’s now inappropriate for us to spend time together? Why can’t you just tell me if that’s what it is? I would understand.”</p><p>“Because I’m not seeing anyone. It’s not like that.”</p><p>“Then what, Dal-mi? I’m running out of ideas here and I can’t read your mind. Tell me what’s going on!” he explodes. </p><p>“Because I need to stop having feelings for you!” she yells, letting her emotions get the best of her, now that she’s realized that the only way out of this conversation is to tell him the truth.</p><p>“What?” The fight drains out of him and his face turns pale, completely unprepared for the turn this conversation has taken.</p><p> “I like you. A lot. And I know I don’t deserve a chance. Maybe this is the universe’s way of getting back at me after what I did to you all those years ago. I can’t be friends with you and have these feelings, I’m not strong enough for that. I… I just need the time and the space to get over it. I planned to never tell you about this but now that it’s out there, I don’t expect an answer, okay? Just be patient with me for a bit longer.”</p><p>They stand there in silence for a while, but Dal-mi waits, knowing that it’s probably something that he never saw coming. The thought makes her sad— Ji-pyeong, one of the best men she’s ever known, believing all this time that she could never feel this way about him.</p><p>“I want to give you an answer,” he says suddenly.</p><p>Dal-mi’s heart thuds in her chest, and she’s frozen in place. This is exactly what she’s been trying to avoid, the pain and humiliation of being rejected, the impossibility of things ever going back to the way they were after this.</p><p>“Maybe you’re right and you don’t deserve a chance, but you deserve an answer. It’s a shitty feeling, to keep hoping that just because it isn’t a no means that it could be a yes someday. I don’t want to put you through that.”</p><p>His words bring tears to her eyes, realizing how deeply she must have hurt him back then. What she’s feeling now is nowhere near what he felt for her before, and she can only imagine the scars she left on him.</p><p>“But can you give me some time to think about it? I… I honestly don’t know what to say and I don’t want to end up saying the wrong things and hurting you.”</p><p>She nods, wiping the tears that have fallen on her cheeks. “Sure, take all the time that you need.”</p><p>“Thank you… for telling me,” he says, awkward but sincere. “I should go. Take care on the way home.”</p><p>He takes a step back from her and turns around, starts running in the direction from where he came. Dal-mi knows that he needs to clear his head. She, on the other hand, feels a burden lift from her shoulders. Sure, there is great trepidation about what will happen next, but it’s out of her hands now.</p><p>All she can do is wait for him to come to her.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you again for reading and for patiently waiting for this update! I haven't abandoned this fic, and my goal is to finish this by the end of March. As you can see, we only have two more chapters, but with how slowly I write, I think end of March for the final chapter would be accurate (just setting expectations here HAHA). To all those who are still reading this story long after the show has finished and interest has understandably waned, thank you so much and I hope you stick around until the end :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. i might crumble, i might take a fall again</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">“Mr. Han? Mr. Han, are you alright?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">His assistant waving her hand in front of him brings Ji-pyeong out of his daze. He rubs his eyes and stands up to stretch. “Sorry about that. What were you saying?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“The director of the Berlin office wants to know when you’ll be free to talk about the fin tech investment? He says there’s still a lot of research and due diligence to be done but not a lot of time left so he really needs to speak with you.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Ji-pyeong groans. That director has been hounding him for days now. Normally, he would be fine with extending some help despite having a lot on his plate but his head hasn’t been at work lately. It’s stuck in an unexpected confession for the last two weeks, a confession to which he still has no response.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">To say that Dal-mi’s confession took him aback is an understatement. He figured something was up when she started avoiding him, had come up with a list of possible reasons in his head and an appropriate response to each of them, but the truth was something he never saw coming. That was a closed door, as far as he was concerned, something he had buried far back in the past. He promised her an answer, but two weeks of wracking his head for one has led him nowhere. There are things he wants to say to her, yes, but in terms of where that leaves them and their relationship, he still has no clue.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He hears his assistant muffle a yawn, and Ji-pyeong realizes that it’s past 9PM already. This isn’t how anyone should spend a Friday night. “You should go. Let’s take care of this on Monday.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She bows her head gratefully and leaves his office, bidding him a good night. He unlocks his phone and it opens to his messages with Dal-mi. He had been meaning to contact her when he finally had an answer, but he doesn’t think it’s fair to keep her waiting any longer. He presses the call button.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Ji-pyeong?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">His heart skips a beat at the sound of her voice. There’s no going back now. “Hi. Did I interrupt anything?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“No, I’m just at home.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I see.” A silence follows. His mouth feels dry and his palms start becoming sweaty. “Do you want to meet up near your place and talk?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Now?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Maybe in the next half hour? I’m just about to leave the office.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Okay. Do you remember that cafe across the convenience store? Can we meet there?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yes. I’ll see you there.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">*</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">When Ji-pyeong arrives, Dal-mi’s already seated at the back of the cafe with a drink. There are still some patrons around, and he’s glad she had enough sense to pick a secluded spot. He waves at her and gestures that he’ll be ordering a drink first, not giving himself time to take her in. He’s already nervous as it is, and reading into every aspect of her demeanor from a distance will just put him on the edge. After getting his coffee, he sits across her and notices the bags under her eyes, the way she worries her lips, and the restlessness of her fingers on the table. He would be concerned, if he didn’t think he probably looks the same in her eyes.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You wanted to talk?” she asks, after having had enough of the uncomfortable silence.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Remember how I told you I wanted to give you an answer?” He looks her in the eye and she nods slightly. “I still don’t have one, and I don’t know when I’m going to be able to give it to you.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“It’s okay,” she tells him, but her expression tells him otherwise.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Before, you said that you wanted to get over it without me ever finding out. Do you still want that? Do you want me to pretend that this never happened and just wait for you to be okay?” He wonders what would have happened if they never met at the park that day, or if he never pushed her for an explanation. If he had just waited her out and let her find her way back to him, maybe he would have just accepted whatever explanation Dal-mi offered him, and maybe they would be in a better place than they are now.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Is that possible? Do you think we can go back to how it used to be now that you know how I feel about you?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I think…” His voice quiets, as he chooses his next words carefully. “I think it will be hard for me to look at you without thinking of the missed opportunities if we got our timing right.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He watches the hurt and disappointment in her face as the words register, and it makes his own heart clench as well.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“See? You have an answer, after all.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">It doesn’t feel like an answer, to him at least. For her, it might just be a yes or no from him, regardless of how he reached that conclusion. But for Ji-pyeong, there’s a lot to unpack— their history, his thoughts, his fears, his plans for the future. He had tried to make sense of it for the last two weeks, but perhaps the best he can offer her for now is a glimpse of his reasoning.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I… it’s not that simple. The thing is, Dal-mi, I don’t have feelings for you because I didn’t let myself have them. It was the only way I could be friends with you. When I saw you at Halmeoni’s grave the day I came back, I knew I had moved on. But I also knew it would be so easy for me to fall for you again, if I wasn’t careful. And with Do-san out of the picture, I knew I would get my hopes up, only to get hurt in the end.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He pauses for a breath, thinking of how to express the mess that’s in his head in terms of what comes next for them.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Now, with you telling me how you feel, maybe… maybe I could, you know? Open up my heart again, see if I could feel the same way about you. But it’s such a big ask, Dal-mi, and it scares me.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“What scares you? That I’ll hurt you again? That it won’t work out between us?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“That I would try, and I still won’t be able to return your feelings,” he tells her sadly.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">It’s what he keeps coming back to when he thinks of giving them a shot, the possibility that, at the end of it all and no matter how much he tries, all they’ll realize is that the ship has sailed.Part of him questions whether it was simply his resistance to falling for her again that made it into reality, or perhaps he is truly not able to see her that way anymore. And if that’s how things pan out, he doesn’t know how he can look her in the eye and be friends with her, knowing that he hurt her and let her down.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I remember one of the things that I loved about you was seeing how deeply you love someone. And that deserves reciprocation in equal measure, not half-hearted affection. I don’t want to hurt you.” He doesn’t know if he can give her what she needs, and he doesn’t want her to settle for what little he can offer when she deserves so much more.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Aren’t you scared that I’ll hurt you? Doesn’t that possibility cross your mind when you think of being with me?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“It does, but it doesn’t scare me. I survived it the first time, I think I’ll manage a second time.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“So why are you so scared of hurting me? I’m not going to break if you realize that you don’t have feelings for me. I’ve been through worse. I got divorced, for God’s sake.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">That stops Ji-pyeong in his tracks. In the midst of all his rumination, he had forgotten an important thing: the Dal-mi that confessed to him is not the same Dal-mi from all those years ago. She’s no longer the girl that Halmeoni entrusted to him, the woman he had grown protective of, the person for whom he had been willing to give up so much in exchange for her happiness. In the years since, she had had her own share of pain, and she had managed to put herself back together and make herself happy. What would a thing as little as unrequited love do to someone who’s been through all that?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“But I’m not going to logic you into trying. It’s okay if you don’t want to. You don’t have to explain yourself.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Ji-pyeong takes a deep breath. “Where does it leave us if I don’t want to try?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I never expected you to. It’s what I deserve anyway. But I’ll get over it, and we’ll still be friends,” she states matter-of-factly.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“And what if we try and it doesn’t work out?” he prods.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I think that no matter what happens, I want to try my best to keep you in my life, in whichever way you want to be in it. So, whether it’s now or later, if you decide that all you want to be is friends, then I’ll gladly take it,” she tells him, eyes kind and understanding.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">And the last scenario, if things work out… Ji-pyeong’s head swims with the possibilities. Excitement thrums under his skin, overwhelming the anxiety and the hesitation he was feeling when he started this conversation. It surges within him, and for the first time tonight, he lets out a smile.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I think I have the answer now.” He takes her hand, and watches Dal-mi’s expression morph from confusion to hopefulness.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Let’s try.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">*</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">If Ji-pyeong were being honest, it was easier for him to fall for Dal-mi the first time around. Back then, it just happened; he didn’t know when he started to care for her, to think about her all the time, to want not just her happiness but to be the one who made her happy. Now, he finds himself constantly asking how he feels about her, every interaction tinged with the expectation that he’s supposed to feel something shift inside him, and being disappointed with himself when he feels nothing.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He hates being conscious of it: how he watches his words to make sure that he doesn’t say anything that she might perceive as an indication of his feelings, how he second-guesses every friendly touch, how he always has to think first before starting a conversation with her. He hates that their relationship feels even more strained after deciding to try, and that perhaps it might have been the wrong choice. Dal-mi says nothing, rides his moods with the patience of a saint, deals with him running hot one moment then cold the next. He hates what he’s doing to her, and it takes a conversation with Erik to get him out of his head.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Just stop overthinking it and spend time with her. From what you told me, she’s not expecting anything from you. You’re the one placing that expectation on yourself. So stop getting in your own way.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">And it’s true; during the moments he’s able to let loose with her like before, he is able to enjoy himself. It’s all in his head, he knows, so that’s where he starts. He’s still self-conscious, but every time his mind tells him no, he goes for the opposite. When they’re out together and he wants to guide her, he places a light hand on the small of her back instead of balling them into fists. When he starts wondering how she’s doing, he sends her a text instead of debating how she’ll see that, which usually sets off a back-and-forth that lasts a few hours and leaves him grinning the whole day. It takes him a while to feel like his old self again around her, but he gets there eventually.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The realization that he’s started having feelings for Dal-mi hits Ji-pyeong unexpectedly. They’ve gone back to their old routine of spending most weekends together, and on this particular Saturday, they’re in a crowded coffee shop as Ji-pyeong works on his laptop and Dal-mi watches a movie on her phone. He feels bad about working during what is supposed to be their time together, but he has a big meeting on Monday and he has yet to wrap his head around all the research and information that his staff has prepared. Dal-mi understands, having been in the same boat one too many times, and she doesn’t seem to mind waiting, if the way she’s engrossed in what she’s watching is anything to go by. It’s his sole source of amusement, her animated expressions and the small sounds she makes every now and then as she reacts to the film.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">When Dal-mi leaves for the restroom, his gaze drifts to the people outside and settles on a young family. The couple looks to be in their early 30s, enjoying their coffee, with two toddlers playing with their toys on the table. He already has a bad feeling about this and, as he predicted, one of the toddlers knocks over their father’s coffee with his toy, causing the drink to spill all over him. The mother stands immediately and grabs tissues to mop up the liquid, all while scolding the child for their carelessness. The child starts crying and the father, despite the mess on his clothes, picks him up and starts soothing him. The typical family scene brings a smile to Ji-pyeong’s face, as he’s reminded of his dreams for the future.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><em>Between me and Dal-mi, I’ll probably be the disciplinarian and she’ll probably be the indulgent one, </em>Ji-pyeong thinks, then catches himself. Where did that come from?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">This is the first time that he’s started thinking about building a future with Dal-mi specifically. For all his talk about wanting to settle down and start a family, he threw all those ideas out the window in the meantime, not wanting his plans for his own future to influence his ability to grow feelings for her. But now that he lets himself think about it again, Dal-mi completing the picture almost feels like a given. He can see it vividly in his head: marrying her, living with her, having and raising children with her, going through life beside her. He’s aware that he’s probably getting ahead of himself—they’re barely even dating, at this point— but it’s the closest he has come to understanding his feelings for her.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“What, have you seen the light?” Dal-mi catches him with a silly grin on his face, and assumes that it’s about the work that he’s doing.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He can’t help but laugh at how her question applies both to his work and to his thoughts. “I’m almost there,” he tells her.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Alright, that’s good. No rush though, take your time. I can wait.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Just a bit longer, I promise.” He gives her a soft look and hopes it can convey what he’s thinking.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>I’m almost ready, Dal-mi. Just be patient with me for a bit longer.</em>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">*</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">When Dal-mi asked him to accompany her for a few errands, he didn’t think lugging a sack of garden soil up to her apartment would be a part of it. This is already his second trip from the car; the first one was to help her carry the plants that she got from a nursery they visited this morning. He had tried his best to stop her, knowing her obsession was getting out of hand. But also, this was Dal-mi, and he knew there was no stopping her once she set her mind to something. He finds her in the middle of taking pictures of her loot, but she stops when he announces his presence by letting the sack fall to the floor with a loud thud.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Getting old, are we?” she teases him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Ji-pyeong pants and rubs the sweat from his face. “Hey, the only reason you invited me was to make me do this instead of paying someone else.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She laughs. “I know, I know, thank you. There’s cold water in the kitchen, then I’ll order something in a bit. What do you want to eat?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Whatever you want is fine. Where do you want me to put this?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She gestures to the terrace and he carries the sack outside, relishing the light breeze that greets him when he opens the door. He sits there for a while, marveling at the ridiculous size of Dal-mi’s plant collection, not to mention the ones that are still inside. Dal-mi opens the door to the terrace to hand him his water, which he accepts gratefully, and starts carrying her new babies to place them on the shelf.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Each plant has a name, which she uses a waterproof label for. Before buying, she had already researched on their water and sunlight needs, and she plots their watering schedule in her calendar. She has a ruler and takes a picture of each one, so she can record its starting height and track its growth. He finds it adorable, despite the fact that he teases her about it every chance he gets.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She sits beside him, close enough for their arms to touch, and turns to him. “Thank you for coming with me today. I know it’s not the kind of thing you would have wanted to wake up early for.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><em>It made you happy, so I guess it’s worth it</em>, is not something he would be able to say without blushing, so he settles for a quiet “You’re welcome” and gives her hand a friendly squeeze. He takes too long to move his hand though, and so his fingers remain wrapped around hers. It feels like the moment to say something but, like all the moments that have gone before, he lets this one pass again, broken by the sound of the doorbell ringing.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I’ll go check that.” Dal-mi extracts her hand from his and leaves to open the door, while Ji-pyeong stays rooted on the bench, wondering what the hell is wrong with him. He doesn’t know what it is he’s waiting for exactly, but there’s something that’s still unsettled within him that prevents him from saying anything to Dal-mi about his feelings.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The revelation in the cafe, as meaningful as it was in telling him that he can see her as more than a friend, feels untrustworthy now that it has lost its sparkle after a few days. What if he’s just projecting his dreams onto her, and becomes disappointed when reality falls short? What if he’s falling in love with his idea of her, and not actually her? He’s all too familiar with what led to her divorce, and he doesn’t want to be the second man to do that to her.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He hears Dal-mi call him for lunch and he goes back inside to help her set the table. When he takes out the food from the bag and opens the container, the smell of Japanese curry fills the air.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I got you the mild one. That’s the one you like, right?” she asks him from the kitchen as she grabs some glasses.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Ji-pyeong is stunned. He had sent a text a couple of days ago about a dish he was craving in the middle of the night. She didn’t even reply to it the next day, having gotten used to his random messages when he’s pulling an all-nighter. But she actually remembered, and this mundane incident perfectly encapsulates how Dal-mi is as a person: how thoughtful she is, how she pays attention to the littlest details, how she takes care of others, how she loves him. And he loves her right back. For all his doubts about his feelings and his worries about the future, he also knows that he loves her now, has probably loved her for far longer than he realizes. Maybe that’s all that really matters and, as for the rest, the only thing he can do is to try his hardest to keep loving her in the years to come.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She approaches him when he doesn’t respond to her. “Do you not like it? You said the other day—“</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“No, no, I do. I can’t believe I’m doing this over a bowl of curry this time.” He wills himself to calm down but his heart beats wildly in his chest. The emotions want to burst out of him and he can’t help the smile that spreads across his face as he turns to look at her.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I love you, Dal-mi.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The surprise in Dal-mi’s face is quickly replaced by a wide grin that mirrors his own. “Yeah?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He nods, cheeks hurting from grinning so much but he couldn’t care less. “I’m sorry I made you wait so long. I’ve felt it for a while now but I wanted to be sure before telling you.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“And so I have a bowl of curry to thank for making you realize that you love me then,” she teases him as she inches closer to him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He laughs and cradles her face in his hands, looking deeply into her eyes. He sees the love and affection that he never thought would be for him reflected in them, and he can’t help but think that the long road they took to get here makes this moment even sweeter.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">When their lips meet, it feels like the wait had been worth it. And now that they’re done waiting, they can finally look forward to the future.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading and for waiting! Not too good with lovey-dovey scenes so I apologize if the ending is a bit rushed. We finally got to the JiDal end game, but we still have one more chapter to go :) Please look forward to it! </p><p>P.S. I haven't had the chance to reply but I really appreciate everyone's comments and kudos, thank you so much :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. it hasn't felt like home, before you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The orphanage looks different in the spring. The shrubs along the walkway which were covered in snow now blooming with flowers, the once-barren trees finally carrying leaves that provide ample shade as Ji-pyeong makes his way inside. A lot has changed from how it was back when he lived here, but he can still see traces of his childhood in parts of it. The wooden bench he sat on when he was brought here the first time, the staircase where he fell down after being pushed by bullies, the desk at one corner of the library where he hid and studied the hardest that he could, knowing that his future depended on it. His memories here were never pretty; perhaps that’s why he can’t recall looking at this place with the same admiration that he does now.</p><p>The director welcomes him warmly, and the older kids help him set up the food he brought for them. The children gather in the kitchen, some faces he recognizes and some new. It’s been a while since he last came and the director catches him up on the last few months: stories of the new orphans who have been brought in, the kids who have been adopted into new families, the teenagers who have run away, the ones like him who have become of age and now have to fend for themselves. It’s a tough life that awaits all of them, and Ji-pyeong can only hope that they would be as lucky as he was when they enter the real world.</p><p>He keeps his visit short, not wanting to take up too much of the director’s time. He forgets to mention that he brought some books with him as well and decides to take it to the library himself. It’s not a lot—he doesn’t know what children read these days, or if they even read physical books. Nevertheless, he went on to purchase the top ten children’s books in the shop, figuring that these were all sure crowd-pleasers anyway.</p><p>The library is smaller than he remembers it being. Maybe it’s because of the additional shelves and the cramped layout, or maybe it’s because the last time he had been here was when he was a teenager before getting kicked out of the orphanage. Peering at the titles on the shelves, he looks for the children’s section but everything seems to be jumbled together: there are old encyclopedias in the same section as fiction, math textbooks with children’s novels, and so on. It’s a mess, and the only thing stopping Ji-pyeong from taking it all down and applying some semblance of a structure is his promise to Dal-mi that he’ll be back by lunch time.</p><p>“Are you donating books?” The voice comes from a teenage boy seated in the same table that Ji-pyeong used to frequent. He nods.</p><p>“You can just leave them there,” he tells the older man, pointing to a growing pile of books on one side. “We’ve gotten a lot of donations but we don’t have the space for it. They’re still figuring out what to do.”</p><p>Ji-pyeong takes out the books from the bag and realizes with some embarrassment that the titles he brought are already in the pile, a few even appearing more than once. It’s the thought that counts, he tells himself, but also wishes that he had put more thought into it. Turning to the boy to thank him, Ji-pyeong notices two things: the fact that he’s holed up here when everyone is out playing and enjoying the weather, and the books that he seems to be studying intently.</p><p>“Thanks.” The boy doesn’t spare him a glance. He clears his throat to get the boy’s attention— that makes him look up at Ji-pyeong, annoyance all over his face. “It’s nice out. You don’t want to join the others?”</p><p>“I don’t want to waste my time,” is all the boy says, focusing once again on his studies. Ji-pyeong smirks, too familiar with what’s going through the boy’s head.</p><p>“Can I take a look?” He gestures to the books on the table, picks one up and opens it somewhere in the middle. These were the same books that Ji-pyeong pored over as a teenager, the pages lined with his scribbles, paragraphs highlighted in faded yellow. It brings him back to a time when his singular focus had been survival, his circumstances forcing him to grow up faster than his peers. The world wasn’t going to be kind to him and he had to equip himself with the knowledge, skills, and attitude to make it out there. Nothing else mattered except for that, and this mindset was what propelled him to heights greater than what anyone ever imagined for him.</p><p>As an adult, he had often wondered if loneliness was the price he paid for his success. He consoled himself with the thought that if that were true, then it was a price he would gladly pay a million times over rather than struggling for the rest of his life. Meeting Halmeoni and Dal-mi again, however, made him rethink that idea. That conversation with Do-san, about exchanging every thing he had for the one thing that Do-san had, he meant it. Struggling would have felt trivial if he had people who loved him and supported him in his life, or so he imagines. </p><p>But, despite having everything he thought he wanted when he was an orphan, his life felt riddled with discontent. The tools that he used for surviving weren’t the same tools that would help him in living. How does one unlearn the behaviors and beliefs that have been ingrained in him for almost his entire life? </p><p>It’s a complex question that invites trite responses: being open to new people and to new experiences, surrendering control and letting the universe work its magic, allowing the possibilities of hurt, happiness, and everything in between to come his way. Reluctant as he may be to admit it, the answers are fairly accurate, considering how his life has panned out thus far. While that hardened teenage boy still lives inside him, the man that he is today is no longer defined by his tragic past. Now, he has people around him, a future he is working towards— a life that he is finally excited to live.</p><p>“Are you done with that?” The boy asks, referring to the book Ji-pyeong has in his hands. Taking one last look at the remnants of his former self, he closes the book and hands it to the boy with a soft smile.</p><p>“Here you go. Good luck.”</p><p>*</p><p>Being with the boy from the letters is nothing like Dal-mi thought it would be.</p><p>She remembers building him up to an almost impossible standard in her head when she was younger: a genius, empathetic, kind, understanding, always knew the right words to say. But when the truth came out, the fantasy ended as well. She spared no more thought for the actual boy from the letters—even if the only different thing was his name—because she had fallen for the real Nam Do-san, despite the fact that the only real thing she knew about him was his name. When her marriage ended and Ji-pyeong walked back into her life, she was far too jaded to rekindle those fantasies about him. Instead, she got to know him and fall in love with him—the real Han Ji-pyeong this time.</p><p>Their relationship feels like a natural progression of their close friendship, the emotional intimacy they already shared only becoming deeper and making way for physical intimacy as well. Her doubts, her fears, her dreams—Ji-pyeong is privy to all of those things and supports her unconditionally. She knows his plans, knows how he wants this relationship to go, and it’s where she wants them to end up too, in the not-so-distant-future. Her lonely nights are now filled with love and laughter. When she goes to him at the end of a long day and he envelops her in his warmth, she finally feels that she has found her home.</p><p>Of course, that isn’t to say that all days are perfect. Their personalities aren’t exactly suited for a conflict-free relationship. There are times when they fail to be the bigger person, like when Ji-pyeong tends to be short with her or when Dal-mi becomes dismissive of him. They fight and argue, as headstrong and opinionated people are wont to do. But when all is said and done, once tempers have cooled and they’ve come back to their senses, they always find their way back to each other, knowing how precious their relationship is and how they almost missed out on being together.</p><p>She tries not to think about regrets or what-could-have-beens. Much of their relationship has been founded on the idea of moving forward together, and that includes leaving the past behind. But sometimes, it’s the past that catches up to them, whether they like it or not.</p><p>It happens on a summer day in Myeongdong, the two of them walking hand-in-hand as Dal-mi recounts a childhood memory with her sister. A familiar side profile from a distance catches her eye, her suspicions confirmed as they get closer. She stops mid-sentence, and Ji-pyeong turns his gaze to the same direction, freezing up when he sees what she does.</p><p>A few feet away from them stands Nam Do-san glued to his phone, unaware of the two pairs of eyes watching him. He’s slimmer than Dal-mi remembers, granted the last time she saw him was two years ago. But his posture, his hairstyle, his clothes—it’s so eerily reminiscent of the Do-san she fell in love with, not the hotshot who came back from the U.S., not the CTO that she ended up marrying, but the awkward nerd she met by accident the first time. The biggest surprise of all is the smile he sports when he sees a girl walking out of the shop he is standing in front of, and how he extends an arm to embrace her and places a kiss on her forehead as they walk away. Dal-mi barely registers Ji-pyeong releasing her hand as she remains frozen in place, mouth agape.</p><p>It shouldn’t be that much of a shock, should it? She’s moved on; of course, he has as well. And despite how things ended between them, she wants him to be happy and to find someone who makes him happy. They tried their best to be that person for each other but, as she learned in both life and love, some things won’t work no matter how much one tries. There had been a time when she felt that she had a larger share of the blame for what happened to them. Looking back, however, as much as she acknowledges her shortcomings, it was simply how things turned out, and perhaps it was all for the best.</p><p>She brings herself out of her stupor to find Ji-pyeong beside her, staring at the ground. She takes his hand and he flinches for a moment before intertwining his fingers with hers.</p><p>“Hey.” She waits for him to look at her before continuing. “I’m okay.”</p><p>He offers her a tight-lipped smile. “You sure?”</p><p>She nods. “It’s been a long time. I was just surprised to see him, that’s all.”</p><p>They continue walking, Dal-mi almost wrapped around his arm as she places her other hand on his bicep and rests her head on his shoulder. She barely remembers what they were talking about before seeing Do-san, and the moment has passed anyway. He’s unusually silent—not the sulky type that he gets when he’s upset with her, nor is it the distracted type that happens when he’s thinking of something related to work. But knowing Ji-pyeong as well as she does by this point, there’s something on his mind that he won’t share unless he’s asked.</p><p>“What are you thinking?” she asks as nonchalantly as she could.</p><p>It takes a moment for him to respond. “There’s this email at work that I need to look into when I get home later—“</p><p>She squeezes his hand to interrupt the lie. “Try again?”</p><p>He stops walking and she follows suit, stands in front of him with their hands still connected. He’s scrutinizing her but she doesn’t know what for. She waits; pushing him won’t make him open up. When it seems like he’s had his fill, he takes a deep breath and gives her the saddest smile she’s ever seen on him.</p><p>“Maybe later? It’s not very nice.”</p><p>She hates seeing him like this, hates not knowing what’s upsetting him. It’s Ji-pyeong’s call though, and she simply agrees, never letting go of his hand.</p><p>*</p><p>The drive back to Dal-mi’s apartment is silent, both of them losing any appetite to continue their date after what just transpired. Ji-pyeong knows that he spoiled the mood. Dal-mi said she was okay seeing her ex-husband with someone else. But how does he say that he isn’t? Why does this even affect him so much?</p><p>He stops the car outside her apartment and doesn’t turn off the engine. It’s clearly a sign of rejection even before she extends an invitation to come up, and her face falls in disappointment.</p><p>“I’m sorry. I don’t think I’ll be good company tonight.”</p><p>She seems to consider her words carefully before speaking. “I don’t want to push you if you don’t want to talk about it, but I don’t want to end the night this way without knowing what’s going on either.”</p><p>“Beats me.” He chuckles sarcastically. He expects her to get out of the car so he can have his meltdown in peace but she stays, the stubborn woman that she is.</p><p>“Was it about seeing Do-san earlier?” Just hearing his name from her lips makes him feel sick. “You’re not… jealous, are you? You know that nothing’s ever going to happen again, right?”</p><p>“I know,” he says without looking at her. He knows that that’s over, knows that she loves him as much as he loves her. He’s not worried about the present or the future; it’s the past that bothers him.</p><p>“Then why?”</p><p>There’s no way of admitting his insecurities without seeming petty or immature so he decides to just let it out. “You’re right. I am jealous of him. I’m jealous because he was your first choice, and there’s nothing I can do about that.”</p><p>Dal-mi stares at him dumbfounded. This is probably the last thing she expected him to say, seeing how unflappable he usually is when the past is brought up.</p><p>“It’s so stupid, you don’t have to tell me. I didn’t think I had these thoughts anymore, but seeing Do-san again brought it all back. You chose me first this time. You fell in love with me first before I fell in love with you. And we’re together now and we’re happy. That’s all that should matter. That should be enough,” he says, trying to convince himself of what he’s saying. It’s a similar feeling to what he felt giving her that speech on the rooftop all those years ago.</p><p>“But it isn’t?” Dal-mi asks.</p><p>“Somehow, today, it’s not enough.” He leans back on the car seat with a defeated sigh. Part of him regrets having this conversation at all because how is it supposed to end? This isn’t an argument where an apology fixes things. He doesn’t want her to apologize for her choices in the past, and he doesn’t think he should apologize for whatever residual bitterness he feels about those choices. “Can I ask you something? When you started having feelings for me, what changed? What changed about me from before that made you like me this time around?”</p><p>He gives her time to think but the longer the silence drags on, the more Ji-pyeong wishes he could take the question back. He’s learned to be vulnerable with Dal-mi but not to this extent. He’s about to tell her to forget that he said anything when she speaks.</p><p>“What changed is that I got to know you. I learned what made you smile and what made you laugh, and I found myself wanting to be the person who made you do more of those things. I learned how you cared for people, not by telling them but by showing them, and I wanted to be the person to care for you. I learned about what you wanted out of life, and I wanted to be the person by your side as you achieved those dreams. And all these things I learned about you? I don’t think they’re that different from when I first met you. But I don’t know for sure, because I didn’t even give you a chance.”</p><p>Her eyes bore into his and Ji-pyeong, unable to stand the intensity of her gaze, turns and rests his head at the top of the steering wheel. As much as he doesn’t want Dal-mi to blame herself for choosing what she thought would make her happy at that time, what she said was true. He never felt like he had a chance back then, no matter how many times he made his intentions clear, no matter how many times he stood by her side waiting to catch her if she fell. There was nothing more he could have done to win her over.</p><p>He thinks about his next words first before turning back to her. “I really didn’t want to say anything, because that’s just the sequence of events, isn’t it? You chose someone else over me, you married him, it didn’t work out, and then we got together. Neither you nor I can change what happened. I don’t even know if you want to change it. I don’t blame you either way.”</p><p>“If it were just me, I wouldn’t change any of it, because everything that happened to me made me the person I am today, and we still got here in the end,” she tells him, and Ji-pyeong’s heart clenches at the thought of a do-over where Dal-mi still chooses Do-san over him first, even though he expected nothing less. "But I do regret hurting you, Ji-pyeong. I regret the part I played in making you feel so unhappy that you had to escape to another country. I regret making you feel like you weren’t good enough when it was me who failed to see you. I regret that now you think that you’re the second choice, when I should have chosen you in the first place.”</p><p>“That day, on the rooftop, you said our letters were simply a comfort during a rough patch in our lives, and I agreed. It was easy to mistake comfort for love when I was younger. But after my failed marriage, I realized that comfort can eventually grow into love. And you, Ji-pyeong, have always been my source of comfort in some of the most difficult times of my life: when my parents divorced, when I was struggling in Sandbox, when my own marriage ended. How could I not love you?” Her voice cracks at the last sentence and a few tears fall on her cheeks. “I only wish I realized it sooner so that I could have spared you from the pain that you went through while loving me.”</p><p>He removes his seatbelt and embraces her, burying his face in her neck. His own tears spill as he remembers his misery watching Dal-mi with Do-san, how lonely and unloved he felt after Halmeoni died, and how hopeless he thought his life would be when he first got to Chicago. Unlike Dal-mi, he would change it all if he could: he would have found Halmeoni sooner, he would have kept his distance from Dal-mi when she started showing interest in the real Do-san,  he would have looked for meaningful relationships in Seoul instead of in another country. If this is where he would end up anyway, considering what he had already gone through as an orphan, can anyone blame him for wanting just a little less heartbreak along the way?</p><p>He can feel her rubbing his back and hear her whispering “I’m sorry” and “I love you” over and over. Calming himself down, he pulls away to look at her. She puts her hands on his face and wipes away his tears. He uses this opportunity to take in all the little details of her face, the faint mole near her upper lip, the sharp line of her nose, her wide eyes that finally see him. As distressing as his previous memories were, being with Dal-mi like this reminds him that his life is different now, that he has her now. There is no changing the past for either of them, but the present is here and the future is theirs.</p><p>He grabs her hand on his cheek and presses a kiss to her palm, hoping it can convey what he wants to say without the words. She gives him a soft smile and caresses his jaw, letting him know she understands.</p><p>*</p><p>When her CEO asked Dal-mi if she would like to join her for lunch, she didn’t think anything was amiss. It wasn’t uncommon for Ms. Lee to have a one-on-one session with her outside the office, but the stealth with which she did it this time—by going out first and sending Dal-mi a text to meet her at a nearby restaurant—should have told Dal-mi that something was up.</p><p>“I’m planning to retire next year, and I want you to be the next CEO.”</p><p>It’s lucky that she wasn’t eating or drinking anything when the news dropped, because she surely would have choked. She tries to remain unperturbed on the outside, but so many thoughts and worries cross her mind that she isn’t sure what to say first. Ms. Lee waits her out patiently until she’s able to compose herself.</p><p>“Wow, Ms. Lee. I’m honored, thank you. Those are pretty big shoes to fill,” she says diplomatically. </p><p>“I’m sure you can do it.”</p><p>Dal-mi only smiles in response. “If I may ask, why me? The other senior directors have been in the company longer than I have, and they all have graduate degrees and a wealth of experience. They handle and bring in more clients than I do. I think they’re more qualified, to be honest.”</p><p>Ms. Lee considers her carefully before saying, “Is that what you think, or is that what you think others will think when I make the announcement?”</p><p>Dal-mi knows the people she works with and, while she knows that most of them would be happy for her, she also knows that there will be a few with some questions. If she herself doesn’t believe that she’s qualified for this role, then how can she convince those people to believe in her?</p><p>“I guess it’s mostly me? You know that my background is a bit different from everyone else’s. As much as I take pride in that, I haven’t exactly upskilled myself these last few years to be in the same playing field as the others. I worry that I might not be the best person for this job.”</p><p>“Well, no one ever is. Believe me, there are so many days when I see how you and the other directors work and think to myself, you would have done a much better job handling this issue or this client than I did,” Ms. Lee tells her. “Do you really want to know why I chose you, Dal-mi?”</p><p>She nods, heart beating wildly in her chest.</p><p>“It’s precisely because you are different from the rest that I think you are the best person in the company right now to be the next CEO. You’ve been one in the past; you know that being a CEO doesn’t mean you’re the most knowledgeable person in the room. A graduate degree won’t teach you the soft skills you need in the job. The ability to bring in new clients? That means you have a great network and PR skills, but that doesn’t necessarily make you a leader. Being a CEO is about leadership and inspiring others.”</p><p>These were the things that Dal-mi used to know until she became immersed in her new field. Adopting the mindset of a rookie was a good move for her to adjust to the industry, but this also made her only see the ways she was lacking against her counterparts, forgetting that she had her own strengths as well, aside from just hard work and resilience.</p><p>“When I hired you, I knew I was taking a risk by bringing in someone who had limited experience in the field, despite how impressive your achievements were with your old company. But you showed me—all of us, actually—that the risk was worth it. You learned the ropes of the business by doing the work yourself even with your position. You may not handle the most number of clients, but you handle most of the difficult ones, putting out fire after fire relentlessly. During meetings, I look forward to hearing your take on things, because your point of view is always refreshing. When others talk about current trends or global statistics or industry best practices, you talk about the implications on the client, and whether this is the best solution we can offer or not. You take care of your team, and I’m always so happy to see how engaged they are with their work even with the long hours. Do you know that most of the junior analysts want to be able to work with you, because they want to learn from you? You lead by example, Dal-mi, and that’s what matters to me, above all else, in a CEO.”</p><p>Her heart swells with joy at Ms. Lee’s words. It’s the kind of validation she didn’t know she’d been looking for, the sign that she made the right choice. Leaving Chungmyung Company back then was a risk that she wasn’t sure would pay off; despite her bravado in front of Do-san and her former co-workers, she constantly asked herself if she would ever be successful in this field, knowing that the odds were stacked against her. Surely, she wouldn’t be lucky twice?</p><p>But what Dal-mi realizes now is that she was never just lucky. Now that she can finally say that her success in Heights Consulting is hers—the main reason she switched jobs and stuck it out in the first place—she recognizes that she wouldn’t have gotten here without the help of other people, and the same thing holds true for her success in Sandbox and with Chungmyung Company. Her asking an analyst to create a tool that they can sell to the client is no different from her asking Do-san and the programmers to develop the tech that would be their company’s product. Her consulting with Seol or her other teammates is no different from her seeking out Ji-pyeong or In-jae for advice. She had always owned her success, but it took being in a different environment without her self-perceived advantages for her to finally believe it.</p><p>“Thank you, Ms. Lee, for believing in me. It means a lot coming from you,” she says with a small laugh, unable to stop grinning.</p><p>“You deserve it, Dal-mi.”</p><p>For the first time, she agrees.</p><p>*</p><p>A garden wedding suits her, Ji-pyeong thinks, as he looks around the venue. The weather is perfect, the decorations are beautiful, and the whole set-up is tastefully intimate. This is Liz, after all; he expects nothing less than the best.</p><p>He was surprised to receive an invite to her wedding a few months ago. He knew she’d gotten engaged; she even broke the news to him herself and he was genuinely happy for her. She told him that she would invite him to the wedding; he thought she was only saying it to be polite. But Liz always kept her word, and when the invitation arrived all the way from Chicago to Seoul, Ji-pyeong decided that he would go. There was no bad blood between them, and he had no regrets about how things turned out. The least he could do was to fly out to Chicago and give Liz his well wishes personally.</p><p>Everyone had been excited to see him, all of them offering their spare bedroom or their couch for Ji-pyeong to stay in during the week he’d be in the U.S.. He initially thought of refusing, not wanting to be a burden to anyone, but realized that he missed them, and wanted to spend as much time as he could around them. He decided to stay with Erik, figured that he’d be bothering him the least since he lived alone. But due to last-minute wedding preparations and Erik being related to Liz, his apartment essentially served as the headquarters for the wedding, and people kept flitting in and out. Chaotic, yes, but Ji-pyeong enjoyed it since they still made him feel like part of the family. It was also a chance for them to meet Dal-mi virtually, as they would often be around when he was on a call with her. He can’t wait to introduce her to them in person and let her see this side of his life.</p><p>They had thrown Liz a small party two nights before her wedding. Despite seeing each other a couple of times since he arrived, the only moment they had to be alone was when Ji-pyeong was washing the dishes, and Liz offered to help.</p><p>“I was right, wasn’t I?” Ji-pyeong said with a smirk.</p><p>“About?” Liz asked, bemused.</p><p>“That you’d be getting married the next time I see you.”</p><p>“You said I’d be married with kids. Don’t think I don’t remember that conversation.” </p><p>He chuckled, almost forgetting that impeccable memory of hers. When he said nothing in response, she turned to look at him with a soft smile on his face. He cocked an eyebrow, not sure what she’s thinking.</p><p>“We didn’t do too badly, did we?” she asked him.</p><p>Ji-pyeong thought of the alternative scenario where they made things work. If Ji-pyeong had decided to stay in Chicago and raise a family with her, would he be happy? If Liz had decided to move back with him to Korea and build a life there, would she be happy? Maybe, yes, he doesn’t know really. But looking at where they are now—Liz getting married, Ji-pyeong being with Dal-mi—they’re happy, very much so. Among all the different ways their lives could have turned out, they did pretty well, and they deserve a pat on the back for being true to themselves no matter how hard it was to make that decision at that time.</p><p>“I think we made the right choice,” he told her with utmost sincerity, receiving a bright grin in return.</p><p>Now, after watching her walk down the aisle, eyes teary and voice breaking as she struggled to make it through her vows, Ji-pyeong thinks his own happy ending isn’t too far away. When Erik nudges him and jokingly asks when is it going to be his turn, he only smiles coyly, remembering the small box hidden in his luggage.</p><p>*</p><p>“Where are we going?”</p><p>“You’ll see.”</p><p>“Ji-pyeong.”</p><p>He only laughs at her tone and he’s lucky that he’s driving because she would be hitting him now if he wasn’t. She turns away from him and looks out the window, clearly sulking.</p><p>“We’ve only been driving for twenty minutes, Dal-mi,” he tells her with a laugh, and the sound makes her lips quirk upwards, despite her best efforts to stay annoyed with him.</p><p>“You’re not usually like this. Why can’t you just tell me? I don’t even know if I’m dressed up appropriately for this.”</p><p>“What? Where do you think I’m taking you?”</p><p>“I don’t know. What if you take me hiking or we go to the beach?”</p><p>He looks at her like she’s being ridiculous, and she probably is, considering that she’s just spewing nonsense to get him to slip up. “I would have told you to change before leaving if that were the case. I’m a decent boyfriend, you know.”</p><p>She grins and decides to try a different approach. She lifts her hand to run it through his hair, which he usually likes, but not when he’s styled it like today. He ducks his head away from her and groans, throwing her a dirty look. She is undaunted and threatens to ruin his hair again, but Ji-pyeong holds up his hand.</p><p>“How about, if we don’t get there in the next twenty minutes, I’ll tell you?”</p><p>“Deal.” Dal-mi takes it immediately, knowing that it’s probably the most she’ll get out of him. He would only say that if he knew they would get there in less than twenty minutes, which means their destination is just somewhere in Seoul or near it. She can wait a bit.</p><p>But it doesn’t take long for Dal-mi to start recognizing where they are. The cherry blossom trees, the houses in the area, the playground where her dad used to build a sandbox for her under the swing. They’re in Seonju and, when Ji-pyeong parks the car near a walkway, he turns to her with a smile. “Want to take a walk with me?”</p><p>They stroll hand-in-hand in silence, cherry blossoms falling around them. She hasn’t been here for a long time, not since she married Do-san. The place is beautiful, as it always has been, but she’s also reminded of her childhood and how much she misses the people who meant a lot to her: her father and Halmeoni. And the letters—they were part of the last happy memories she had here. It’s a remarkable twist of fate that she now walks with the boy who wrote them, in the same path where she used to read the letters he wrote to her. When she turns to look at Ji-pyeong, he’s already staring at her fondly, pink petals dusted on his hair. Her heart swells with how much love she feels for him in this moment, and she places a soft kiss on his lips. He doesn’t question it when she pulls away after, probably as caught up in the moment as she is.</p><p>“Do you remember when you thought I was following you here?” he asks after some time. She scrunches her face at him in confusion. “When you were a kid and I was walking behind you while you were reading my letter, and you yelled at me to stop following you.”</p><p>She probably did do that, but it was likely just a fleeting moment that she hardly gave it any thought. “You should’ve introduced yourself back then.”</p><p>“As who? It wouldn’t matter anyway. I would have seemed like a creepy teenager to you.” She laughs in agreement and they keep talking, her focus on him and letting him lead the way until Ji-pyeong stops at what appears to be their destination. It’s an old cherry blossom tree, and hanging from it is a familiar shock of pastel that always made her young heart race.</p><p>“I can’t believe this is still here.” She reaches her hand out to touch the bird house, careful not to damage the brittle wood, colors faded and worn down from the weather and time. She lifts the bird house and feels a weight inside it. Peering into the hole, she spots a letter and leaves it but Ji-pyeong gestures for her to take it. The envelope has her name on it and she gives him a quizzical look before opening it.</p><p>It’s his letter, to her. Unlike the giddy anticipation of her younger days, this time, she reads it slowly, savoring every sentence and relishing every new thing he reveals to her. She always thought of him as a beautiful writer in his own way, warmth and comfort seeping through his words. She can’t help but tear up when he talks about her—how little he expected from the world growing up and how she changed all that by walking into his life. The part that gets to her the most is when he signs it with ‘Yours, Han Ji-pyeong’.</p><p>“What’s this?” she asks him once she’s done reading the letter.</p><p>“Consider it my first letter to you, signed as me.” He points to the birdhouse. “There’s more.”</p><p>Right, how could a piece of paper weigh that much? She gently tilts the birdhouse to get what’s inside. A small square box lands on her palm. She stares at it in shock, remaining motionless, until Ji-pyeong steps in and opens the box for her, revealing a beautiful diamond ring.</p><p>“I waited a long time to be able to ask you this question, Dal-mi. I think I knew it the first time, that you would be the love of my life. Now that we’re here, you’ve turned out to be so much more than that to me. You are my best friend, my partner, and my confidante. You are the person I want to build a future with. And I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy.”</p><p>She doesn’t realize that she’s started crying until he steps closer and wipes her tears away with his thumb. Drawing his face close to hers, he asks, “Will you let me? Will you marry me?”</p><p>“Yes, of course. Yes,” she whispers as she kisses him, heart bursting with all the love and affection she feels for this man. She can feel his own tears on her cheeks and she holds him tightly, never wanting to let go.</p><p>It’s crazy, she thinks, how they made it here. Their connection was unlikely in the first place—a lonely girl from a broken family and an orphan about to set off into the world. Later on, when she became an ambitious hustler and he an accomplished investor, if it weren’t for Halmeoni, their circles might have run close, sure, but it would have been purely professional at best, Ji-pyeong likely to dismiss her as just another naive dreamer. When Ji-pyeong returned from the U.S., with everything that went down between them, it would have been perfectly acceptable for them to lead their own lives in parallel to each other, never intersecting again.</p><p>And yet, despite all odds, they stand here today, wrapped up in each other’s arms. Dal-mi knows that it’s not fate that led them here. Instead, they have their choices to thank: choosing to connect, choosing to forgive, and choosing to love.</p><p>When Ji-pyeong puts the ring on her, it shines brightly on Dal-mi’s finger, like the promise of their future together.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Aaaand that's it! Thank you so much for reading and patiently waiting for this final chapter. I am two weeks late from when I promised to update but real life was hectic last March and more importantly, I feel really sad saying goodbye to these characters. At the end of it, I feel like they've departed from who they were in the show but it's the ending I wanted them to have. </p><p>I leave it to your imagination what Ji-pyeong wrote in his final letter :) I rewatched the pilot for this chapter and realized that I could never do justice to how Ji-pyeong wrote to Dal-mi even though he was that young.</p><p>Finally, thank you also for all your comments (I will respond to them this time around!!). This is the first chaptered fic that I've completed in my life and I wouldn't have been encouraged to finish it without your support.</p><p>P.S. This will probably be my last fic for this fandom as I've told the story I wanted to tell, but that might change if Kim Seon Ho wins the Best Supporting Actor award in the Baeksang HAHAHA</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If Dal-mi feels OOC here, it’s because I retconned her into what I think she could’ve been at the start of the show. And please bear with the DoDal for now, it’s only for the first few chapters :) Thanks for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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